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"Her!" he exclaimed. "Who's she?"

"There's only one her," he answered, and pursed his lips as though about to perpetrate an explosion. And then it came: "Miss Braine, of course. Here's her card."

The man who had admitted Giles Ilingsworth stiffened when he looked upon this card, which read:

Miss Madeline Braine

The Llandegraff

——th Street and

the Drive.

"Not the governor's ...?"

"The same."

"What's she doing here?"

For answer the footman merely shrugged his shoulders.

"When did she come?" asked the butler.

"Ten minutes or so ago."

"But I didn't see her come."

"I let her in; you were downstairs."

The butler came as near to a whistle as any butler on duty ever came. What is more, in his agitation at this new and unexpected crisis, he quite forgot the presence of Giles Ilingsworth, vice-president of the largest trust company in the world.

"There'll be the devil to pay if the missus sees her! Did she ask for——"

"She came to see the governor," interrupted the footman, shaking his head; "and what's more, she says she's going to wait until he comes."