"I was just guessing. We Yankees are good at guessing. Don't you
English concede that?"

"Guessing and wooden nutmegs," said Mark, "both go with the Yankee
character."

"Guessing, wooden nutmegs, and a little taste of Brandywine thrown in
for flavor."

"Very unkind of you to throw our defeats in our teeth--and especially
into mine; for you know that I am half Irish, and we Irish helped you."

Saunders laughed as they approached the desk together.

"Letter for you, Mr. Griffin," said the clerk, throwing a square
envelope on the desk.

Saunders just glanced at it before Mark himself saw that the letter was
without a stamp; it had come by messenger. The detective turned his
back to hide a smile, then walked to the reading table and picked up a
paper.

Mark opened his letter. It was from the lady of the tree--only a few
lines--an invitation to tea that afternoon at the house behind the
great wall. Twice he read it over.


"Dear Mr. Griffin: Monsignore is coming to tea at four o'clock to-day.
Won't you come with him? He likes you--that I know--and he always