nnering's sentimentality. To-day, with his own lips, he has confessed
to me that another, an unbroached reason, stands behind his refusal!"

"And he never told me," the Duchess murmured, involuntarily.

"Duchess," Borrowdean answered, with a faint, cynical parting of the
lips, "there are matters which a man does not mention to the woman in
whose high opinion he aims at holding an exalted place."

There was a knock at the door. The Duchess's maid entered, carrying a
long cloak of glimmering lace and satin.

The Duchess nodded.

"I come at once, Hortense," she said, in French. "Sir Leslie," she added,
turning towards him, "you are making a great mistake, and I advise you to
be careful. You are one of those who think ill of all men. Such men as
Lawrence Mannering belong to a race of human beings of whom you know
nothing. I listened to you once, and I was a fool. You could as soon
teach me to believe that you were a saint, as that Mannering had anything
in his past or present life of which he was ashamed. Now, Hortense."

Borrowdean walked off, still smiling. How simple half the world was.

CHAPTER IX

THE PUMPING OF MRS. PHILLIMORE

Hester sprang to her feet eagerly as she heard the front door close, and
standing behind the curtain she watched the man, who was already upon the
pavement looking up and down the street for a hansom. His erect,
distinguished figure was perfectly familiar to her. It was Sir Leslie
Borrowdean again.

She resumed her seat in front of the typewriter, and touched the keys
idly. In a few moments what she had been expecting happened. Her mother
entered the room.

Of her advent there were the usual notifications. An immense rustling
of silken skirts, and an overwhelming odour of the latest Bond Street
perfume. She flung herself into a chair, and regarded her daughter with
a complacent smile.

"That delightful man has been to see me again," she exclaimed. "I could
scarcely believe it when Mary brought me his card. By the bye, where is
Mary? I want her to try to take that stain out of my pink silk skirt. I
shall have to wear it to-night."

"I will ring for her directly," the girl answered. "So that was Sir
Leslie Borrowdean, mother! Why did he come to see you again so soon?"

"I haven't the least idea," Mrs. Phillimore announced, "but I thought
it was very sweet of him. It seems all the more remarkable when one
considers the sort of man he is. He's very ambitious, you know, and