"I may be some day," replied Lord Roker; "but at present I am not."
"Then what is your pertic'ler line in life?"
"If you mean business or profession, I have none. I'm a drone."
"A drone, sir! I'm delighted," exclaimed Mr. Pilgrim, with marked interest. Then, "Hello, Marion. Back again."
Roker turned, and there, framed in the doorway, was a living Romney picture—a radiant girl.
She came forward, the light playing on her red-brown hair.
"Lord Roker—my daughter," said Mr. Pilgrim.
The girl smiled and shook hands.
"I hope I'm not interrupting a very serious deliberation," she said, half hesitating.