looked,--that is, from Mr. Coulson's standpoint, who was not used
to the single eyeglass and somewhat drawling enunciation.

"Mr. Coulson, isn't it?" the young man asked, accepting the
other's outstretched hand. "We are awfully sorry to disturb you,
so soon after your arrival, too, but the fact is that this young
lady, Miss Penelope Morse,"--Mr. Coulson bowed,--"was exceedingly
anxious to make your acquaintance. You Americans are such birds
of passage that she was afraid you might have moved on if she
didn't look you up at once."

Penelope herself intervened.

"I'm afraid you're going to think me a terrible nuisance, Mr.
Coulson!" she exclaimed. Mr. Coulson, although he did not call
himself a lady's man, was nevertheless human enough to appreciate
the fact that the young lady's face was piquant and her smile
delightful. She was dressed with quiet but elegant simplicity.
The perfume of the violets at her waistband seemed to remind him
of his return to civilization.

"Well, I'll take my risks of that, Miss Morse," he declared. "If
you'll only let me know what I can do for you--"

"It's about poor Mr. Hamilton Fynes," she explained. "I took up
the evening paper only half an hour ago, and read your interview
with the reporter. I simply couldn't help stopping to ask whether
you could give me any further particulars about that horrible
affair. I didn't dare to come here all alone, so I asked Sir
Charles to come along with me."