The publisher was amused.

“Certainly not!” he answered.  “We have already paid over a thousand pounds in royalties on the present book, and we have agreed to give two thousand in advance on the next.  The author has expressed himself as perfectly satisfied—­”

“Through Miss Armitage?” put in Harrington.

“Yes.  Through Miss Armitage.”

“Well!” And Harrington turned to go—­“I hope Miss Armitage will also express herself as perfectly satisfied after I have seen her!  I shall write and ask permission to call—­”

“Surely”—­and the publisher looked distressed—­“surely you do not intend to trouble this poor girl by questions concerning her employer?  It’s hardly fair to her!—­and of course it’s only your way of joking, but your idea that she wrote the book we’re all talking about is simply absurd!  She couldn’t do it!  When you see her, you’ll understand.”

“I daresay I shall!” And Harrington smiled-"Don’t you worry!  I’m too old a hand to get myself or anybody else into trouble!  But I’ll wager you anything that your simple school-girl is the author!”

He went back then and there to the office of his big newspaper and wrote a guarded little note as follows:—­

“Dear miss Armitage,

I wonder if you remember a grumpy old fellow who travelled with you on your first journey to London rather more than a year ago?  You never told me your name, but I kept a note of the address you gave through me to your taxi-driver, and through that address I have just by chance heard that you and the Miss Armitage who corrected the proofs of a wonderful book recently published are one and the same person.  May I call and see you?  Yours sincerely,

John Harrington.”

He waited impatiently for the answer, but none came for several days.  At last he received a simple and courteous “put off,” thus expressed:—­

“Dear Mr. Harrington,

I remember you very well—­you were most kind, and I am grateful for your thought of me.  But I hope you will not think me rude if I ask you not to call.  I am living as a paying guest with an old lady whose health is not very strong and who does not like me to receive visitors, and you can understand that I try not to inconvenience her in any way.  I do hope you are well and successful.

Yours sincerely,

Ena Armitage.”

He folded up the note and put it in his pocket.

“That finishes me very decisively!” he said, with a laugh at himself for his own temerity.  “Who is it says a woman cannot keep a secret?  She can, and will, and does!—­when it suits her to do so!  Never mind, Miss Armitage!  I shall find you out when, you least expect it—­never fear!”