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Julian addressed a question to the Bishop across the table. Lord Maltenby consulted Doctor Lennard as to the date of the first Punic War. Mr. Stenson admired the flowers. Catherine, who had been sitting with her eyes riveted upon the Prime Minister, turned to her neighbour. "Tell me about your amateur journalism, Mr. Orden?" she begged. "I have an idea that it ought to be interesting."
He advanced to the table with a little familiar swagger. "Mr. Fenn," the Bishop said, "we have been awaiting your arrival anxiously. Tell us, please, where we can find Mr. Julian Orden." Fenn gave vent to a half-choked, ironical laugh. "If you'd asked me an hour ago," he said, "I should have told you to try Iris Villa, Acacia Road, Hampstead. I have just come from there."
"With anything in the nature of a conspiracy. Of course, Mr. Orden wouldn't understand. How could he? I think it was cruel to bring the Bishop into the matter at all." "Nothing," Fenn pronounced, "is cruel that helps the cause. What will you drink, Miss Abbeway? You'll have some champagne, won't you?" "What a horrible idea!" she exclaimed, smiling at him nevertheless.
Silent then wrote the order and handed it to him, saying: 'You will proceed to join Gen. Orden in the morning; he will move to the left during the day. Silent said that he would give him a larger command in a few days, but could not do so then, as they were on the eve of the movement in contemplation. "Gen. Anderson expressed entire satisfaction, and directed Lieut.
"If any man has read the message which Paul Fiske has written with a pen of gold for us," Phineas Cross declared, "and can still say that he is not one of us, why, he must be beside himself. I say that Mr. Orden is the brains and the soul of our movement. He brought life and encouragement into the north of England with the first article he ever wrote.
A servant brought in the Evian water for which she had asked and a whisky and soda for Julian. She drank thirstily and seemed in a few moments to have overcome her fatigue. She turned to her companion with an air of determination. "I must speak to you about that packet, Mr. Orden," she insisted. "Again?" "I cannot help it. You forget that with me it is a matter of life or death.
She turned her head slowly and looked at him. There was a strange, repressed fire in her eyes. "You are a very foolish person," she said. "Your parents, I suppose, were small shopkeepers, or something of the sort, and you were brought up at a board-school and Julian Orden at Eton and Oxford, and yet he understands, and you do not.
"That is quite easy," Fenn promised. "I will do it without delay. But in the meantime," he added, moistening his dry lips, "can't you possibly get to know what this man this neutral is driving at?" "I fear not," she replied, "but I shall try. I have invited him to dine to-night." "If you discover anything, when shall you let us know?" "Immediately," she promised. "I shall telephone for Mr. Orden."
The colonel spoke with emphasis, and flung away his cigarette, and took up his hat to go. And then, "I suppose," said Miss Musgrave, absently, "you will be falling in love with her, just as you did with Anne Charteris and Aline Van Orden and all those other minxes. I would like to see you married, Rudolph, only I couldn't stand your having a wife." "I! I!" sputtered the colonel.
I will go further and say that the very soul of our Council is embodied in the teachings and the writings of Paul Fiske, or, as we now know him to be, Julian Orden." Fenn rose to his feet. He was trembling with passion. "This informal meeting is adjourned," he announced harshly. Cross himself did not move. "Adjourned or not it may be, Mr.
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