Square, a few moments after he had resigned his coat and hat to the
footman.

"There is a gentleman here to see you who says that he made an
appointment by telephone, sir," he announced. "His name is
Sidney--the Reverend Horatio Sidney, he calls himself."

Lord Romsey stood for a moment without reply. His lips had come
together in a hard, unpleasant line. It was obvious that this was by
no means a welcome visitor.

"I gave no appointment, Ainsley," he remarked. "I simply said that I
would see the gentleman when he arrived in England. You had better
bring him to my study," he continued, "and be careful that no one
interrupts us."

The young man withdrew and the Cabinet Minister made his way to his
study. A little of the elasticity, however, had gone from his
footsteps and he seated himself before his desk with the air of a man
who faces a disagreeable quarter of an hour. He played for a moment
with a pen-holder.

"The skeleton in the cupboard," he muttered to himself gloomily.
"Even the greatest of us," he added, with a momentary return of his
more inflated self, "have them."

There was a knock at the door and the secretary reappeared, ushering
in this undesired visitor.

"This is Mr. Sidney, sir," he announced quietly.