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fact, at the Hall, and very pretty it was too.”
    “Yes, well, a pity your daughter hadn’t fashioned a top for that skirt she wore. You want to oversee the gowns she has made up. You don’t want her going about society in dresses with a French cut to ‘em.”
    “Marion—there’s the one to see to it,” Harlock said, naming a spinster aunt. “I’ll send to the Hall and ask her to come to us. The gel will want to ride about the city and see the sights.”
    “Better keep her under wraps till you get Marie and Edward out. How will you do it?”
    “I’ll have to talk it over with some fellows from the Foreign Office. They’ll think of something, now that we know where they are. It was our not being able to put a finger on them before that made it impossible. Something can be done. Somebody will have to go over after them.”
    “How about this Henri Mérigot Lady Céleste mentioned? A Frenchie—he might be of use.”
    “No!” Harlock said sharply. Then more calmly, “No, he is too young. Only a stripling of a fellow with no influence and very little brains. We can do better than send a boy for them.”
    “In the meanwhile, you must make up some creditable story to account for Lady Céleste’s coming to you. You won’t want it to get out what she’s been through. It would ruin her reputation. What you ought to do is make a good match for her as soon as possible.”
    “Lud, she’s only nineteen and been in prison the last year. Let her enjoy herself a bit first.”
    “You forget her dowry. The Dorset estate worth fifty thousand pounds. She’ll be the object of every fortune hunter in the city.”
    “She won’t be throwing herself away on any riff-raff. That Marie will have drummed into her head, whatever about anything else.”
    “With that set of French manners she brought with her, she’ll put off the decent gentlemen. I think your best bet would be to get her buckled up right away to some solid, strict, older—”
    Harlock gave a look that said, “You’re mad.” He pursed his lips and shook his head slowly from side to side. “No, Degan. That is not the sort of a gentleman for Sal. Some nice lively lad who will appreciate her, not try to put too tight a rein on her high spirits.” Some unsettling memories of trying to curb the girl’s mother assailed him. High-handedness had never worked with Marie, and it would not work with the daughter. He had no notion of losing the child, and to treat her as Degan suggested would surely do it.
    “She’d wind any young fellow around her thumb,” Degan pointed out.
    “It is early to speak of marriage. I want to keep her with me till Marie gets here. That is what must be done first. Arrangements made on that score. And Edward, of course, my son.” His chest expanded a little at the word. Edward had never been so difficult to deal with as the females. There was more of the Harlock in him, in both appearance and character. He felt suddenly younger, more full of life. With his hand on the brandy decanter, he pushed it aside.
    “I’d better get to bed,” he said. “The minx will be up at the crack of dawn, driving the servants crazy with orders for food. She was half-starved, poor thing. Maggoty bread! How has Marie stood it these five years? You’ll come by tomorrow and see us, Rob?”
    “Yes, I’ll be here,” Degan said, and taking the hint, arose to leave, though he would not have refused an offer to remain overnight. It was pouring rain, and chilly. Nor did he particularly look forward to returning alone to a large empty house, devoid of any human life but for servants.
    * * * *
    Abovestairs, Minou had long since fallen to sleep. Her limbs ached from her long walk in the rain, her head spun from the brandy, and she felt glutted from having eaten too much food. She was no longer accustomed to full meals. A crust of bread, the plate scrapings in the kitchen of an inn—such had been her repasts of late. She was very happy to have reached Papa