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Updated: June 14, 2025
I had a couple of five-pound notes and a sovereign on me, no visiting cards or any other means of identification, and no idea as to who I am. I can only hazily recollect that I have a title; I am Lady Somebody beyond that my mind is a blank." "Hadn't you any luggage with you?" asked Jerton. "That is what I didn't know.
The Kestrel-Smith toilet tools aren't up to much, but they are better than nothing." "If you feel sure that you have a title," said Jerton, "why not get hold of a peerage and go right through it?" "I tried that. I skimmed through the list of the House of Lords in 'Whitaker, but a mere printed string of names conveys awfully little to one, you know.
Jerton acquiesced in the manoeuvre, and duly mounted guard over the luggage while its temporary owner slipped unobtrusively out of the hotel. Her departure was not, however, altogether unnoticed. Two gentlemen were strolling past Jerton, and one of them remarked to the other: "Did you see that tall young woman in grey who went out just now? She is the Lady "
Jerton was beckoned by a waiter to the only vacant table that was discernible, and took his seat with the uncomfortable and wholly groundless idea that nearly every one in the room was staring at him.
"It is a curious thing," said the young woman, that, "I should be able to tell you the name of those roses without an effort of memory, because if you were to ask me my name I should be utterly unable to give it to you." Jerton had not harboured the least intention of extending his thirst for name-labels to his neighbour.
Jerton had not ventured to notice anything of the sort.
Excuse me for asking if you could tell me her name; I've been talking to her for half an hour; she er she knows all my people and seems to know me, so I suppose I've met her somewhere before, but I'm blest if I can put a name to her. Could you ?" "Certainly. She's a Mrs. Stroope." "Mrs.?" queried Jerton. "Yes, she's the Lady Champion at golf in my part of the world.
"No, came in fourth, the most irritating thing a horse can do when you've backed it win or place. Anyhow, I know now that I'm not Lady Befnal." "It seems to me that the knowledge was rather dearly bought," commented Jerton. "Well, yes, it has rather cleared me out," admitted the identity-seeker; "a florin is about all I've got left on me.
Jerton had visions of harassed railway officials and distraught Kestrel- Smiths, but he made no attempt to clothe his mental picture in words. The lady continued her story. "Naturally, none of my keys would fit the things, but I told an intelligent page boy that I had lost my key-ring, and he had the locks forced in a twinkling. Rather too intelligent, that boy; he will probably end in Dartmoor.
He knows all the members by sight, and if there are any letters or telephone messages waiting for me of course that will solve the problem. If he says there aren't any I shall say: 'You know who I am, don't you? so I'll find out anyway." The plan seemed a sound one; a difficulty in its execution suggested itself to Jerton.
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