"You mustn't present yourself at the inn in your own name; and you
mustn't ask for her by _her_ name."

"Who am I to ask for?"

"It's a little awkward. She has gone there as a married woman, in case
they're particular about taking her in--"

"I understand. Go on."

"And she has planned to tell them (by way of making it all right and
straight for both of us, you know) that she expects her husband to join
her. If I had been able to go I should have asked at the door for 'my
wife.' You are going in my place--"

"And I must ask at the door for 'my wife,' or I shall expose Miss
Silvester to unpleasant consequences?"

"You don't object?"

"Not I! I don't care what I say to the people of the inn. It's the
meeting with Miss Silvester that I'm afraid of."

"I'll put that right for you--never fear!"

He went at once to the table and rapidly scribbled a few lines--then
stopped and considered. "Will that do?" he asked himself. "No; I'd
better say something spooney to quiet her." He considered again, added a
line, and brought his hand down on the table with a cheery smack.