"Sir Wingrave Seton, I believe?" the intruder said cheerfully.

"That is my name," Wingrave admitted; "but my orders below have
evidently been disobeyed. I am not disposed to receive visitors
today."

The intruder was not in the least abashed. He laid his hat upon the
table, and felt in his pocket.

"I am very sorry," he said. "They did try to keep me out, but I told
them that my business was urgent. I have been a journalist, you see,
and am used to these little maneuvers."

Wingrave looked at him steadily, with close-drawn eyebrows.

"Am I to understand," he said "that you are in here in your
journalistic capacity?"

The newcomer shook his head.

"Pray do not think," he said, "that I should be guilty of such an
impertinence. My name is Aynesworth. Walter Aynesworth. I have a
letter for you from Lovell. You remember him, I daresay. Here it is!"

He produced it from his breast coat pocket, and handed it over.

"Where is Lovell?" Wingrave asked.

"He left for the East early this morning," Aynesworth answered. "He
had to go almost at an hour's notice."