LITMIR.BIZ

      CHAPTER IV

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      The sun had risen cold and bright when Adrien Leroy awoke, and his first question was for the child, Jessica. But here a surprise awaited him, for the bird had flown. Norgate and the housekeeper had found the room tenantless. For some inexplicable reasons of her own she must have stolen noiselessly out while the other occupants of the flat were still sleeping.

      Adrien made no comment, but proceeded to undergo the labours of the toilet. A cold bath is an excellent tonic; and when Leroy entered the dining-room his calm face bore no traces of his comparatively sleepless night. He sat down to breakfast, waited on by the attentive Norgate, and turned over the heap of letters which lay beside his plate. During his leisured meal he opened them. They were principally invitations, though a few of them were bills--big sums, many of them, for horses, dinner-parties, supper-parties, jewellery, flowers--all the hundred-and-one trifles which were as necessary to a man in his position as light and air.

      With a gesture of weariness, he pushed the pile from him, and throwing them carelessly into the drawer of a buhl cabinet, left them until such time as Jasper Vermont could attend to them.

      "Where do I dine to-night?" he asked presently.

      "At the Marquis of Heathcotes', sir--at eight," replied Norgate, who knew his master's engagements better than did the young man himself.

      Leroy nodded absently.

      "Order the new motor for four o'clock. I want to see how it goes."

      "Yes, sir." The confidential servant coughed and looked slightly embarrassed. "I may mention, sir, that Perrier has sent in his account for the costumes made for the Fancy Dress Carnival at Prince's."

      "Refer him to Mr. Vermont," was the calm reply. "I have sir, several times, but he wants to see you personally. It's a matter of discount----"

      "Send him to Mr. Vermont. I know nothing of his bill or his discount. Surely you know that, Norgate," Leroy interrupted impatiently.

      The discreet Norgate retreated silently; and ten minutes later Leroy started for his morning canter in the Row. Here, meeting and chatting with his numerous friends, the morning passed quickly enough; and when Leroy returned to his chambers again, Norgate was putting the finishing touches to the table already set for lunch.

      "Covers for four?" said his master, as he entered the room. "Who is coming?"

      "Mr. Shelton, Lord Standon, and Mr. Paxhorn, sir."

      "Ah, yes, to be sure," replied the host, who had completely forgotten the invitation. "I thought it was for to-morrow."

      The loud hoot of a motor outside told him that his visitors were arriving; and in another moment the door was flung open, and Mortimer Shelton, followed by Lord Standon, entered the room.

      "Well, Leroy, old man," exclaimed the former cheerily, as they shook hands, "you look as fresh as if you had awoke with the dawn!"

      "Nothing new in that," said Lord Standon, laughing. "Nothing upsets Leroy."

      "Except a bad dinner," murmured Algernon Paxhorn, the fourth member of the party, who had just entered the room. He was the latest literary lion, and a fast friend--in more senses than one--of Adrien and the members of his set.

      With jest and laughter they took their places at the table.

      "Well, how's the steeplechase going?" asked Leroy, turning to Shelton. "What do you think of my 'King Cole'? Does he stand a chance?"

      "A chance!" echoed all three.

      "The odds are four to one on him, and few takers," announced Shelton.

      Lord Standon set down his glass.

      "Ah, that was yesterday," he said. "I was there later, and the odds were being lifted. You can lay what you like on him, my dear fellow, and you will have no difficulty in finding takers."

      "Oh!" commented Adrien, almost listlessly. "Something better in the field, I suppose? I thought the roan was not to be touched."

      "And I, also," said Mortimer Shelton; "I can't understand it! The only new entry was a weedy chestnut, listed by a Yorkshireman in the afternoon. 'Holdfast' they call him."

      "He'll require more hustling than holding," returned Paxhorn sarcastically.

      Lord Standon finished his wine.

      "I'll back the roan while there's a penny to borrow," he said with sublime confidence. "There's nothing can touch him."

      "That's what Jasper said," remarked Leroy, "and he ought to know."

      "Oh, yes, he's a good judge of a horse," grudgingly admitted Shelton, who frankly hated him; "and of men too--when it pays him."

      Leroy's face darkened slightly. Vermont was his friend, and he resented a word spoken against him far more than he would have done one against himself.

      "You misjudge him, Shelton," he said briefly.

      "Possibly," retorted the other, unabashed. "What you find so fascinating in him I can't imagine. Still, my dear fellow, setting Vermont aside, there can be no two opinions respecting your chef. Sarteri is a possession I positively envy you. There is not another chef in England that understands entrées as he does."

      "None," echoed Lord Standon. "Leroy will be famous for one thing, at least, if it's only for his cook."

      The meal came to an end, and

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