So Hedges gave the necessary orders, and dinner was laid in the breakfast-room.  Thomas Carr came in, bringing the news that he had succeeded in putting off his appointment.  Lord Hartledon received him in the same room, fearing possibly the drawing-room might be invaded by his wife.  She was just as likely to be home early from Chiswick as late.

“We have it to ourselves, Carr, and I am not sorry.  There was no certainty about my wife’s return, so I thought we’d dine alone.”

They very much enjoyed their tete-a-tete dinner; as they had enjoyed many a one in Hartledon’s bachelor days.  Thomas Carr—­one of the quiet, good men in a fast world—­was an admirable companion, full of intelligence and conversation.  Hedges left them alone after the cloth was removed, but in a very few minutes returned; his step rather more subdued than usual, as if he came upon some secret mission.

“Here’s that stranger come again, sir,” he began, in low tones; and it may as well be remarked that in moments of forgetfulness he often did address his master as he used to address him in the past.  “He asked if—­”

“What stranger?” rather testily interposed Lord Hartledon.  “I am at dinner, and can’t see any stranger now.  What are you thinking about, Hedges?”

“It is what I said,” returned Hedges; “but he would not take the answer.  He said he had come a long way to see your lordship, and he would see you; his business was very important.  My lady asked him—­”

“Has Lady Hartledon returned?”

“She came in now, my lord, while I was denying you to him.  Her ladyship heard him say he would see you, and she inquired what his business was; but he did not tell her.  It was private business, he remarked, and could only be entered into with your lordship.”

“Who is it, Hedges?  Do you know him?”

Lord Hartledon had dropped his voice to confidential tones.  Hedges was faithful, and had been privy to some of his embarrassments in the old days.  The man looked at the barrister, and seemed to hesitate.

“Speak out.  You can say anything before Mr. Carr.”

“I don’t know him,” answered Hedges.  “It is the gentleman who came to Hartledon the week after your lordship’s marriage, asking five hundred questions, and wanting—­”

“He, is it?” interrupted Val.  “You told me about him when I came home, I remember.  Go on, Hedges.”

“That’s all, my lord.  Except that he is here now”—­and Hedges nodded his head towards the room-door.  “He seems very inquisitive.  When my lady went upstairs, he asked whether that was the countess, and followed her to the foot of the stairs to look after her.  I never saw any gentleman stare so.”

Val played with his wine-glass, and pondered.  “I don’t believe I owe a shilling in the world,” quoth he—­betraying the bent of his thoughts, and speaking to no one in particular.  “I have squared-up every debt, as far as I know.”