ed to speak, not
about Dr. Derwent, but Dr. Derwent's daughter."

Piers bent forward, resting his chin on his hand.

"Tell me about her--will you?"

"There's not much to tell. You knew about the broken-off marriage?"

"I knew it _was_ broken off."

"Why, that's all anyone knows, except the two persons concerned. It
isn't our business. The world talks far too much about such
things--don't you think? when we are civilised, there'll be no such
things as public weddings, and talk about anyone's domestic concerns
will be the grossest impertinence. That's an _obiter dictum_. I was
going to say that Irene lives with her father down in Kent. They left
Bryanston Square half a year after the affair. They wander about the
Continent together, now and then. I like that chumming of father and
daughter; it speaks well for both."

"When did you see her last?"

"About Christmas. We went to a concert together. That's one of the
things Irene is going in for--music. When I first knew her, she didn't
seem to care much about it, though she played fairly well."

"I never heard her play," fell from Piers in an undertone.

"No; she only did to please her father now and then. It's a mental and
moral advance, her new love of music. I notice that she talks much less
about science, much more about the things one really likes--I speak for
myself. Well, it's just possible I have had a little influence there. I
confess my inability to chat about either physic or physics. It's weak,
of course, but I have no place in your new world of women."

"You mistake, I think," said Piers. "That ideal has nothing to do with
any particular study. It supposes intelligence, that's all."

"So much the better. You must write about it in English; then we'll
debate. By the bye, if I go to your Castle, you must come down to show
me the country."

"I should like to."

"Oh, that's part of the plan. If we don't get the Castle, you must find
some other place for me. I leave it in your hands--with an apology for
my impudence."

After a pause, during which each of them mused smiling, they began to
talk of their departure for England. Otway would go direct in a few
days' time; Mrs. Borisoff had to travel a long way round, first of all
accompanying her husband to the Crimea, on a visit to relatives. She
mentioned her London hotel, and an approximate date when she might be
heard of there.

"Get the Castle if you possibly can," were her words as they parted. "I