ters. But go ahead! Tell me more! When do you expect her
people back?"

"Possibly in a fortnight. They have been gone that time already--rather
more. And they expected to make a month of it."

Nick nodded. "We ought to be able to hold the fort for that time. What
did your friend Sir Kersley think?"

Max lifted one eyebrow. "What did he say to you about it?"

Nick struck a match for his cigarette with considerable dexterity.
"About Violet--practically nothing. About her mother--a good deal."

"I wonder why." Max spoke somewhat curtly.

Nick lighted his cigarette with a whimsical expression. "You don't seem
to have noticed what an excellent confidant I make," he said.

"Ah, I know you are safe." There was conviction in Max's tone. "But
Kersley is such a reserved chap. And--that ancient affair ruined his
life."

"I gathered that," said Nick. "As a matter of fact, I knew a little of
the affair before we met. He had been a doctor in my old regiment. It
was five years after he retired that I joined; but most of the fellows
knew the story. It reached me one way or another. I was deuced sorry for
him when I heard the truth. Most people out there were of the opinion
that he had treated her badly--was, in fact, to a very great measure
responsible for the tragedy."

"That of course was not so," said Max deliberately. "She was responsible
from first to last. She knew of the taint in her veins. He did not--till
he detected it."

"Rather hard on her!" remarked Nick.

"Would you have married her?" The green eyes fixed him with sudden stern
intentness.

Nick blinked rapidly for a few seconds. "I daren't answer that
question," he said at length. "You see, I'm not a doctor."

Max rose abruptly. "Are doctors the only beings whoever think of the
next generation?" he asked bitterly.

"There is a saying," said Nick, "that 'Love conquers all things.'"

"Pshaw!" said Max. "It never conquered heredity."

"I withdraw the proposition," said Nick. "But, I say, Wyndham!" He
paused.

"Well?" Max swung round aggressively with hands in his pockets.

"Suppose the woman you loved developed that disease--would you throw her
over?" Nick spoke tentatively.

Max flung back his head and stared at the ceiling. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I want to know what you are made of," replied Nick with
simplicity.

Max turned and slowly walked to the window. "Yes," he said, with his
back turned, "I should."

Nick was silent.

After a mome