“Who came in just now, miss?”

“The gentleman for the young lydy, sir.”

" By jorrocks!”

Gammon mounted the stairs at break-neck speed and burst into the private sitting-room.  There stood Polly, with her head up, looking pert indignation and surprise, and before her stood Greenacre, discoursing in his politest tone.

“What are you doing here?” asked Gammon breathlessly.  “What are you up to, eh?”

“Ah, Gammon, how do you do?  I’m glad you’ve dropped in.  Let us sit down and have a quiet talk.”

The man of mystery was very well dressed, very cool, more than equal to the situation.  He took for granted the perfect friendliness of both Polly and Gammon, smiled from one to the other, and as he seated himself, drew out a cigarette case.

“I’m sure Miss Sparkes won’t mind.  I have already apologized, Gammon, for the necessity of introducing myself.  You, I am sure, will forgive me when you learn the position of affairs.  I’m so glad you happened to drop in.”

Declining a cigarette, Gammon stared about him in angry confusion.  He had no words ready.  Greenacre’s sang-froid, though it irritated him excessively, shamed him into quiet behaviour.

“When you entered, Gammon, I was just explaining to Miss Sparkes that I am here on behalf of her uncle, Lord Polperro.”

“Oh, you are.  And how do you come to know him?”

“Singular accident.  The kind of thing that is constantly happening in London.  Lord Polperro is living next door to an old friend of mine, a man I haven’t seen for some seven or eight years till the other day.  I happened to hear of my friend’s address, called upon him, and there met his lordship.  Now wasn’t it a strange thing, Gammon?  Just when you and I were so interested in a certain puzzle, a delightful bit of genealogy.  Lord Polperro and I quite took to each other.  He seemed to like my chat, and, in fact, we have been seeing a good deal of each other for a week or two.”

“You kept this to yourself, Gammon.”

“For a sufficient reason—­anything but a selfish one.  You, I may remark, also made a discovery and kept it to yourself.”

“It was my own business.”

“Certainly.  Don’t dream that I find fault with you, my dear fellow.  It was the most natural thing in the world.  Now let me explain.  I grieve to tell you that Lord Polperro is in very poor health.  To be explicit, he is suffering from a complication of serious disorders, among them disease of the heart.”  He paused to let his announcement have its full effect.  “You will understand why I am here to represent him.  Lord Polperro dare not, simply dare not, expose himself to an agitating interview; it might—­it probably would—­cost him his life.  Miss Sparkes, I am sure you would not like to see your noble relative fall lifeless at your feet?”

Polly looked at Gammon, who, in spite of wrath, could not help smiling.