back. So Frank took my wedding-clothes and things and made a bundle of them, so

that I should not be traced, and dropped them away somewhere where no one could

find them. It is likely that we should have gone on to Paris to-morrow, only

that this good gentleman, Mr. Holmes, came round to us this evening, though how

he found us is more than I can think, and he showed us very clearly and kindly

that I was wrong and that Frank was right, and that we should be putting

ourselves in the wrong if we were so secret. Then he offered to give us a

chance of talking to Lord St. Simon alone, and so we came right away round to

his rooms at once. Now, Robert, you have heard it all, and I am very sorry if I

have given you pain, and I hope that you do not think very meanly of me.”


Lord St. Simon had by no means relaxed his rigid attitude, but had listened

with a frowning brow and a compressed lip to this long narrative.


“Excuse me,” he said, “but it is not my custom to discuss my

most intimate personal affairs in this public manner.”


“Then you won’t forgive me? You won’t shake hands before I

go?”


“Oh, certainly, if it would give you any pleasure.” He put out his

hand and coldly grasped that which she extended to him.


“I had hoped,” suggested Holmes, “that you would have joined

us in a friendly supper.”


“I think that there you ask a little too much,” responded his

Lordship. “I may be forced to acquiesce in these recent developments, but

I can hardly be expected to make merry over them. I think that with your

permission I will now wish you all a very good-night.” He included us all

in a sweeping bow and stalked out of the room.


“Then I trust that you at least will honour me with your company,”

said Sherlock Holmes. “It is always a joy to meet an American, Mr.

Moulton, for I am one of those who believe that the folly of a monarch and the

blundering of a minister in far-gone years will not prevent our children from