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other night—while we were talking to John and Eleanor Barlow in that rather grand hall, your Arabian knight was standing by the door of the casino, looking as if he owned the place.”
    “Which he probably does if la Barlow has anything to do with him,” Fran said nastily.
    “But she just walked straight past him when she was with John,” Katie protested, “as if she didn’t know him.”
    “Well, dear,” Fran smiled patiently, “it would hardly have been diplomatic to make eyes at the boy-friend when she was with John, would it?”
    “No, I suppose not,” Katie admitted, searching in her handbag for her purse.
    “You know,” Fran said as they left the restaurant, “I think I see a chance to prise Eleanor loose from John, and I must get Jamie to take me to the ‘Kismet.’ He never has.”
    “Oh, Fran, you wouldn’t tell John about this, would you?” She frowned at her friend’s determined expression. “It’s rather unkind.”
    “Cruel to be kind,” Fran retorted. “We don’t want la Barlow in the family, and that’s what she’s set her sights on, only John doesn’t seem to see it. Jamie doesn’t like her,” she added inconsequentially.
    “I gathered that,” Katie smiled. “But it isn’t Jamie that’s concerned, it’s John, and he may be serious about the girl. If he is he won’t take kindly to having his illusions shattered by you.”
    “Oh, stuff!” Fran said airily. “I don’t believe John ever had any illusions—besides,” she set her freckled face into what Katie termed her Dennison look, “I know what’s best for him.”
    Fran’s chance came earlier than she hoped, for John Miller was at the Dennison house when they arrived back during the afternoon, loaded with parcels and chattering gaily. Sir Janus turned benevolent eyes on them and smiled. “Like pretty birds,” he said, looking at their flushed faces and shining eyes.
    “As noisy, too,” his grandson said dryly, and pulled Fran’s long hair, not looking at Katie.
    “Ah, hello, John.” Fran widened her eyes ingenuously as she looked at her cousin. “It wasn’t you that Eleanor was dashing off to meet, then. I thought perhaps it was.”
    “No,” he smiled at her, unaware of her motives, and Katie felt suddenly guilty, as if she would hate to see him hurt. “I expect she had to get back to London in a hurry,” he said. “She’s pretty busy.”
    “Perhaps,” Fran looked at him from the comers of her eyes, judging the moment. “But fancy deserting that gorgeous man she was with. He was fascinating, wasn’t he, Katie?”
    “You thought so,” Katie said, her cheeks flushed. “If you remember I thought he was too sleek and said so.” She was feeling angry with Fran for choosing this moment, in front of a stranger, to tell her cousin about his girl’s double dealing, and she wished she was no part of it.
    “Generous, too," Fran went on, undeterred. “He gave her a present.”
    Katie watched his face as Fran spoke and saw only curiosity there. “A present?” he queried, and looked at Fran’s lively, attractive face closely. “What sort of present?”
    “Oh, a package about so big,” she made a small oblong with her hands, about the size of a necklace case. “We thought that it must have been jewellery,” she said complacently. “It was too small to be anything else.”
    “Interesting,” he said slowly, his blue eyes narrowed, and Fran gave Katie a look of rather doubtful triumph.
    “We thought so,” Fran said blithely, and Katie shook her head involuntarily at being included, aware as she did so that he was watching her.
    He glanced briefly at his grandfather before turning to the door. “I’ve just remembered, Janus,” he said quietly, “I should have made a phone call before I left the house. May I use your phone?”
    “Of course,” the old man assented, and turned his attention to the two girls. “Fran," he looked at his granddaughter’s frankly disappointed face and at Katie’s