We walked into the luncheon room in silence. Presently my cousin showed
signs of irritation.

"What the mischief are you so glum about?" he asked.

I looked up.

"I am not glum," I answered. "I was just thinking that the Hotel
Universal seemed rather a queer place for a young lady with a French
maid, a Japanese spaniel, and--no chaperon."

"You are an ass!" my cousin declared.

* * * * *

It was not until the evening that Gilbert unbent. When, however, he
studied the menu of the dinner which I had ordered for his delectation,
and learned that I had invited his particular friend, Lord Kestelen, to
meet him, he invited me to descend below to the American bar and take a
cocktail while we waited for our guest.

"By the bye, Jim," he remarked, slipping his arm through mine, "I thought
that Miss Van Hoyt was particularly inquisitive about you this morning."

"In what way?" I asked, at once interested.

"She wanted to know what you did--how you spent your time. When I told
her that you had no profession, that you did nothing except play cricket
and polo, and hunt and shoot, she seemed most unaccountably surprised.
She appeared almost incredulous when I told her that you seldom came to