here. Let's go over to London now and see the pater."
"That we will," cried Trimmer. "That we will By gad, I'm proud of you to-day, Lord Harrowby."
Inside Allan Harrowby's suite three pairs of questioning eyes were turned on that harassed nobleman. He fidgeted in his chair.
"I say," he pleaded. "It's all his bluff, you know."
"Maybe," said old Spencer Meyrick, rising. "But Harrowby—or whatever your name is—there's altogether too much three-ring circus about this wedding to suit me. My patience is exhausted, sir—clean exhausted. Things look queer to me—have right along.I'm more than inclined to believe what that fellow said."
"But my dear sir—that chap is a rank impostor. There wasn't a word of truth in what he said. Cynthia—you understand—"
"Why, yes—I suppose so," the girl replied. "You are Allan Harrowby, aren't you?"
"My dear girl—of course I am."
"Nevertheless," said Spencer Meyrick with de-
