where to anyone, not to a soul, mind; not to the servants here, not even
to Teddy Mahr. Just run down incognito to Atlantic City or Lakewood, or
better still, to some little place where you are not known. Write your
polite little notes, and say your first season has been too strenuous,
and run away. When can you go? To-night? To-morrow morning?"

"Yes, I could be ready to-night; but what shall we say to Tante Lydia?"

"Half the truth," he answered. "I'll take the responsibility. I'll tell
her I've been informed by my private people that an anonymous person has
been threatening you; that they are trying to locate him; and that as he
is known to be dangerous, I've advised your leaving at once and quietly.
I'll tell her a few of my experiences in that line, that will make her
believe that 'discretion is the better part of valor.'" He laughed
bitterly. "The kind attentions I've had in the way of infernal machines
and threats by telephone and letter. And I see only a few, you know.
What my secretaries stop and the police get on to besides would exhaust
one. It's the penalty of the limelight, my dear. But don't take this too
seriously. I'll have everything in hand in a day or two. Now I'm off to
put your mother's valuables in a place of safety. Let's stow those jewel
cases in a handbag. Can you lend me one?" She left the room and returned
presently with a traveling case, into which Gard tossed the elaborate
boxes without ceremony. "I've been thinking," he said presently, "that
my sister's place in Westchester is open. She goes down often for week
ends. There's a train at eight that will get you in by nine-thirty, and
I can telephone instructions to meet you and have everything ready. If
you motored down, you see, the chauffeur would know and you must be
quite incognito. It'll be dead quiet, my dear, but you need a rest, and
we can keep in touch with one another so easily."