I hesitated a moment.
"Lady Dennisford," I said, "I had a particular reason for coming to see you this morning."
She raised her eyebrows.
"My dear Jim!"
"I, too, have a visitor," I told her; "rather a more mysterious person than yours seems to be. He is very ill indeed; and he is almost a stranger to me. But he was once, I believe, a friend of yours."
"A friend of mine!" she repeated. "How interesting! Do tell me his name!"
"I cannot do that," I answered, "because I do not know it—not his real name. But in the park this morning, I happened to tell him who lived here, and although he is very weak, he insisted upon paying you an immediate visit."
She looked around the room.
"But where is he?" she asked.
"He is outside on the terrace," I answered.