“He didn’t do it in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, Greenacre.”

“He did not; but I very greatly fear that those meetings—­of course I have heard of them—­helped to bring about the crisis under which he is now suffering, as also did a certain other meeting which you will recollect, Gammon.  Pray tell me, did Lord Polperro seem to you in robust health?”

“Can’t say he did.  Looked jolly seedy.”

“Precisely.  Acting on my advice he has left town for a few days.  I shall join him to-morrow, and do my best to keep up his spirits.  You will now see the necessity for using great caution, great consideration, in this strange affair.  We can be quite frank with each other, Gammon, and of course we have no secrets from my new and valued friend—­if she will let me call her so—­Miss Polly Sparkes.  One has but to look at Miss Sparkes to see the sweetness and thoughtfulness of her disposition.  Come now, we are going to make a little plot together, to act for the best.  I am sure we do not wish Lord Polperro’s death.  I am sure you do not, Miss Sparkes.”

Polly again looked at Gammon, and muttered that of course she didn’t.  Gammon grinned.  Feeling sure of his power to act independently, if need were, he began to see the jocose side of things.

“One question I should like to ask,” continued Greenacre, lighting a second cigarette.  “Has Mrs. Clover—­as we will continue to call her, with an implied apology—­been informed yet?”

“I haven’t told her,” said Gammon frankly.

“And I’m sure I haven’t,” added Polly, who had begun to observe Mr. Greenacre with a less hostile eye, and was recovering her native vivacity.

Greenacre looked satisfied.

“Then I think you have acted very wisely indeed—­as one might have expected from Miss Sparkes.  I don’t mean I shouldn’t have expected it from you too, Gammon; but you and I are not on ceremony, old man.  Now let me have your attention.  We begin by admitting that Lord Polperro has put himself in a very painful position.  Painful, let me tell you, in every sense.  Lord Polperro desires nothing so much—­nothing so much—­as to be reunited to his family.  He longs for the society of his wife and daughter.  What more natural in a man who feels that his days are numbered!  Lord Polperro bitterly laments the follies of his life which are explained, Gammon, as you and I know, by the character he inherited.  We know the peculiarities of the Trefoyle family.  Some of them I must not refer to in the presence of a young lady such as Miss Sparkes.”  Polly looked at her toes and smirked.  “But Lord Polperro’s chief fault seems to have been an insuperable restlessness, which early took the form of a revolt against the habits and prejudices of aristocratic life.  Knowing so much of that life myself, I must say that I understand him; that, to a certain extent, I sympathize with him.  When a youth he desired the liberty of a plebeian station, and sought it under disguises.  You must remember that at that time he had very little prospect of ever succeeding to the title.  Let me give you a little genealogy.”