ring suggestion that she had
bestowed her affections upon--someone more captivating? I fancy she is
wisely determined to secure as good a bargain as possible--for which one
can scarcely blame her. And a man with so lively a past as your
brother's would scarcely be a safe partner for one who values peace and
prosperity."

"How dare you make these vile insinuations in my hearing?" burst forth
Noel. "Do you think I'm made of sawdust? Tell me what you mean, or else
retract every single word you've said!"

Hunt-Goring held up a cigarette between his fingers and looked at it.
The fury of Noel's attitude scarcely seemed to reach his notice. He
leaned against the balustrade of the verandah, still faintly smiling.

"I would tell you the whole story with pleasure," he said, "only I am
not quite sure that it would be good for you to know."

"Oh, damn all that!" broke in Noel, goaded to exasperation by his
obvious indifference. "If you want to save your skin, you'd better speak
out at once!"

"To save my skin!" Hunt-Goring's eyes left their contemplation of the
cigarette and travelled to his face. They held a sneer that was
well-nigh intolerable, and yet which somehow restrained Noel for the
moment. "What a very headlong young man you are!" pursued Hunt-Goring,
in his soft voice. "I've done nothing to you. I haven't the smallest
desire to quarrel with you. Nor have I given you any occasion for
offence. It was Mrs. Musgrave--not I--who imparted the regrettable tale
of your brother's shortcomings to his _fiancee_. In some fashion she
conceived it to be her duty to do so."

"You meant her to do it!" flashed back Noel.

"Ah! that is another story," smiled Hunt-Goring. "We are not discussing
motives or intentions. I think. But she will tell you--if you care to
ask her--that I advised her strongly against the course she elected to
pursue."

"You would!" said Noel bitterly. "Well, get on! Let's hear this precious
story. I've no doubt it's a damned lie from beginning to end, but if
it's going the round I'd better know it."

"It may be a lie," said Hunt-Goring diplomatically. "But it was not
concocted by me. I should conclude, however, from subsequent events
that some portion of it bears at least some sort of resemblance to the
truth." He stopped to light his cigarette while Noel looked on fuming.
"The story is a very ordinary one, but might well prove somewhat damning
to a doctor's career. It concerned a young lady with whom you