“Nonsense, my dear. Do you suppose that a man who is hand in glove with Melun comes across you and Bagley in the Park by accident? Why, it is one chance against a hundred million.”
“But still it is a chance,” urged Kathleen.
“My dear little girl,” said the Premier, gently, while he patted her cheek, “I am afraid that you are of a very trusting disposition, though that has certainly been to the advantage of your poor old father.
“No, no!” he went on. “Depend on it, he was there by arrangement.
“Besides, how otherwise should he know who you were? And you say he suggested that he should drive you back to Downing Street?
“Gad! it almost makes one admire the man to think of his cool cheek. To drive you back to Downing Street indeed!”
“And yet, father, in spite of it all, I really believe the man's honest. You see, you cut me short. I have something else to tell you yet.”
“What is it now?” he asked, with a sad little laugh.
“Why,” said Lady Kathleen, and for a moment she felt unaccountably nervous and shy, “he was here this afternoon.”
“What!” roared the Premier; “he was here this afternoon? Why did you not tell me? I would have had the fellow flogged out of the place.”
“Gently, father, gently,” urged Lady Kathleen, “aren't you speaking rather loud?”
“I suppose I am,” said Lord Penshurst, bitterly. “But tell me about it.”
In a very few words Lady Kathleen outlined her interview with Westerham in the Deer Park.
“You know, father,” she concluded, “I almost believe he was speaking the truth when he said that he was quite different from the man we believed him to be.”
“Rubbish, my dear,” snapped the Premier, “he is only a gentlemanly scoundrel—that is all.
“I wonder how long we shall be able to keep Hilden in ignorance of what is really the matter,” he continued. “The dear chap has behaved splendidly—did everything I asked him without a murmur, even to the extent of burglary this afternoon. By the way, he has got your diamonds back. He has just 'phoned me from Downing Street.”
“Oh, let them go! Let them go!” cried Lady Kathleen, with intense weariness. “Their presence seems only to make matters worse.”
Suddenly she threw herself into her father's arms.
“Oh, father, father!” she cried. “Let us do everything we can. Don't let us give up hope. We have still got a fortnight left in which to get that dreadful secret back. Don't let us give up hope. I would rather disguise myself and go out and search for it than have to endure what it means if we fail.”