The little gentleman minced into the room, smiling and bowing. As I stood in the shadow, removed from the strong light of the electrics, he did not catch sight of me when he first entered. Exactly as he behaved at Burwain, so did he behave in London--that is, as a specious humbug. Of course he looked as though he had just been taken out of a bandbox, and his petit-maitre air was more pronounced than ever. With the assurance of a man accustomed to attention, he made a tour of the circle.

"Lady Denham, you are looking more charming than ever. Lady Mabel, the good wine of your beauty needs no bush to advertise its perfection. Cannington, I am delighted to see you again. Mr. Weston "--this last name was pronounced less effusively--"I trust the airship stocks are rising. Ha! ha!" then he tittered at his small joke, made a comprehensive bow, and looked at me.

I quite expected to see him turn pale: I half expected to see him fly from the house where he was sailing under false colors. But I had yet to learn the complete self-possession of Mr. Walter Monk, alias Mr. Wentworth Marr. He might have foreseen the meeting, so coolly did he eye me through his pince-nez. The tables were turned with a vengeance, for I felt more like the culprit than did Mr. Monk.

"This is our oldest friend," said Mabel, and unless she had spoken I do not know how the little traitor would have acted, "Mr. Cyrus Vance."

"The dramatic author, I believe," remarked Mr. Monk--it is just as well to call him by his true name to prevent confusion--and bowed politely.

"Yes," said I, with a cool smile. There was no reason at that moment why I should denounce the little man, and he played his comedy so deliciously that, from sheer admiration of his impudence, I felt compelled to take a judicious part in the same. "I am happy to meet you Mr.--er--er----"

"Marr, old chap," put in Cannington, quite unaware that anything was wrong.

"Yes, of course, Mr. Marr."

"Thank you," observed the fraud with a bow, "you flatter me, Mr. Vance."

He was--as I have said--as cool as a cucumber, to all outward appearances. Nevertheless, as he turned sideways to answer a question put by Lady Denham, I saw the perspiration bead his forehead. I knew that he was controlling himself with a great effort, although he never turned a hair. He was evidently taken aback by my complete calmness, yet it relieved his mind when he saw that I did not intend to make a scene. Yet, had I denounced him he undoubtedly would have been prepared with a crafty explanation, for he was too clever a schemer to leave anything to chance. And as I guessed, my chance observation that I knew Cannington had placed him to a certain degree on his guard.

With wonderful self-control he spoke to Lady Denham, and laughed with Mabel, and deftly led the conversation on to theatrical topics. When it became general he strolled over to me in a light and airy manner, until he was at my elbow. "And when are we to see a play at the West End by Mr. Cyrus Vance?" he asked gaily, dropping his voice immediately at the end of the question to whisper: "Explanations when we leave."

"Oh," said I loudly, and replying to his public inquiry, "I hope next year will see me successful as the author of a comedy." Then I in turn dropped my voice: "Count on my silence."

Monk drew a long breath of relief, but went on with his comedy. "I hope you will put me down for a box," he said effusively; "I am a great admirer of the drama."

"You shall be on the free list, Mr. Marr," I said, with ostentatious gush.

The whispered words had not been heard by anyone in the room, so Mr. Marr and I understood one another thoroughly without anyone being the wiser. I half fancied Cannington\'s observant eyes might have seen our byplay and his sharp ears might have overheard: but for once he seemed to have missed his opportunity. Shortly Mr. Monk, more at ease, was conversing gaily on the news of the day. Lady Denham seemed to favour him, but Mabel had a contemptuous look on her face several times when he addressed her. I felt certain that only his supposed wealth attracted her, and that she had no respect for his tame-cat antics. And the cream of the joke was, that Mr. Walter Monk, passing himself off as Mr. Wentworth Marr, had only five hundred a year. I could not help giving vent to an audible laugh as the humour of the situation struck me.

"Why do you laugh, Cyrus?" asked Mabel, turning suddenly.

"I have thought of a good joke for a comic scene in a drama" said I grimly.

"May we hear it?" asked Mr. Monk audaciously, for he must have guessed the reason of my unseasonable merriment.

"Certainly not, sir. When you pay your money in the stalls you shall hear the joke delivered on the stage."

"I hope it\'s a good one," said Cannington scoffingly.

"It\'s as funny a joke as I ever heard of," I replied cheerfully, and my eyes sought those of Mr. Monk significantly.

"I shall look forward to hearing it," he said, bowing politely, "and perhaps--as I know several of the managers--I may be able to assist you in getting your masterpiece staged. My card," and he passed along a piece of pasteboard, which was inscribed: "Mr. Wentworth Marr, 3 Stratford Street, St. James\'s." "I am in rooms there, Mr. Vance, as I don\'t intend to take a house until I can find a lady to preside at my dinner-table."

Weston scowled at this, and Lady Denham smiled benignly. "Oh, you millionaires are so modest," she said, in her slow, cool voice, "why, you have a country house in Essex, a shooting-box in Scotland, and a villa at Nice."

With tremendous audacity the fraud bowed as each place was mentioned. "I hope to receive you in them all, dear lady. Mr. Vance also, I trust, will honor me with his company."

"Oh, I\'ll come and see you with pleasure," said I grimly. Mr. Monk impressed me as a kind of Casanova, so matchless was his impertinence. I wondered how an honorable girl such as Gertrude undoubtedly was, came to have so scheming an adventurer as a father. I was also puzzled to think why Mr. Monk, whom I knew to be almost penniless, should wish to marry a pauper aristocrat like Lady Mabel Wotton. But as yet I was not in a position to fit the pieces of the puzzle together, and had to await enlightenment from the arch-rogue himself.

"I just looked in, my dear ladies," said Mr. Monk, accepting the title of millionaire quite complacently, "to invite you to a box at the Curtain theatre early next week--Tuesday is the day, to be quite precise. There is a new play, which I think you will enjoy, Lady Denham."

"Delighted," she yawned. "I like going to the theatre. One can sit still all the time and say nothing."

"The performers on the stage say all that is to be said," replied Mr. Monk, smiling suavely. "Lady Mabel, may I count on you?"

"Certainly," she answered swiftly, with a sly glance at the scowling Weston.

"And perhaps Lord Cannington----?"

"Thanks, no, Mr. Marr, I have to go back to Murchester. Leave\'s up."

"That\'s a pity. Mr. Vance?"

"If I am in town I shall be delighted," I answered mildly, and wondered more than ever at the audacity of the little man. He knew that I could expose him as a fraud, and must have been puzzled to know why I did not, yet he had the hardihood to drag me into his schemes of posing as a millionaire.

"Then that is all settled. And now," he added, making a comprehensive bow, "really and truly I must take my leave. Perhaps Mr. Vance, I can give you a lift in my motor?"

"You are really too good," I replied, accepting promptly, and with scarcely a repressed chuckle.

"But I say, Vance, I want you to go to dinner at the Savoy with me, and afterwards to the Empire," cried Cannington, catching my arm, while Mr. Monk was shaking hands and taking his leave.

"My dear boy, in any case I must go home and dress. Let us change the dinner into a supper at the Savoy, and I\'ll come here at nine o\'clock to accompany you to the Empire."

Cannington was satisfied with this alteration, and nodded. Then, in my turn, I took leave of the ladies and departed in the company of my proposed father-in-law. At the door a really magnificent motor, far surpassing my machine, was waiting, a brougham motor, with a chauffeur and a liveried footman. How Mr. Monk contrived to live in this style on five hundred a year I could not conceive: the machine alone must have cost three times the amount of his entire income. Then, with indignation, I thought of my dear, uncomplaining girl at Burwain, with her one poor frock and her touching belief in the honesty and kind-heartedness of this little villain.

When we were safe in the motor and the footman had received his orders to take the vehicle "Home!"--to Strafford Street, no doubt--Mr. Monk made himself comfortable, then patted my knee in a most amiable manner. "Very good indeed, my dear sir, very good indeed," he said suavely, and in a most self-controlled manner, "you kept my little secret in a way worthy of a man of the world."

"Thank you. I am waiting for an explanation now," I said dryly.

"Do you think I owe you one?"

"I am of that opinion, Mr. Monk."

"Hush!" He glanced anxiously through the glass at the backs of the footmen and chauffeur. "Here, in London; I am Mr. Marr."

"Mr. Wentworth Marr," I said mockingly. "May I ask why?"

"I do not see," he said smoothly, "that you have any right to ask questions concerning my private business."

"I must correct you there," I answered hotly. "Lady Mabel Wotton, her brother, and Lady Denham are friends of mine. I do not wish to see them deceived, Mr.--er--er--Wentworth Marr."

"That is very creditable to your heart, Mr. Vance. But I fail to see how I am deceiving them."

"You wish to marry Lady Mabel?"

"Is that a crime? I am a widower, and am free to take another wife."

"Not under the pretence that you are a wealthy man."

"How do you know?" asked Mr. Monk, smiling politely, "that I am not a wealthy man, Mr. Vance?"

"Pshaw, man!" I rejoined heatedly, for his cool insolence was getting on my nerves. "You have a life interest in five hundred a year and a tumbledown house with a few acres of land at Burwain."

"So far as you know, Mr. Vance, those are all my possessions, but when we reach my rooms," he leaned forward and peered through the misty glass, "we are nearly there now, I am glad to say, you will have an explanation which will astonish you. Had you recognized me when at Lady Denham\'s----"

"I did recognize you."

"Had you denounced me, I should have said," he went on pleasantly, "I should have made the explanation then and there."

"Ah!" said I meaningly, "I thought my chance mention of Cannington\'s name at Burwain forearmed you."

He nodded, and chuckled in his infernally oily manner. "It was just possible, seeing that Lord Cannington and Lady Mabel, to say nothing of Lady Denham, were our mutual friends, that we might meet, so I made ready. I certainly did not expect to meet you quite so soon, however. Tell me," he glanced sideways at me curiously, "why did you not address me by my real name?"

"I remembered that you were Gertrude\'s father."

"How lucky--for me............