f he is Geoffrey Ripon, Earl of Brompton, it is to him that this
estate used to belong, then?"

"Yes, Miss Lincoln, in his father's day it was a beautiful place; there
were none of these modern gewgaws here. The old earl would have starved
to death rather than have dined in a room lighted by the electric light.
I used to stay here as a boy; indeed, I am a kinsman of the family. I
was here last some years before the old gentleman's death. He lived on
here for years without hearing from the outside world. He even gave up
the _Times_, and would not have anything in the house which was written
since the abdication. He refused to acknowledge the existence of a
country which had exiled his king."

Miss Lincoln blushed a little as she said:

"Do we not owe our allegiance to our country, Mr. Dacre, as it is? It
seems to me that it is our duty to do what we can for it."

"Ah, Miss Lincoln, I am afraid that we are treading on dangerous ground.
Your father and I respect each other as foes, whose swords have crossed,
always do; but it is not fitting that his daughter and I should discuss
this matter. Do you notice how intently Mrs. Oswald Carey watches Miss
Windsor? I wonder why?"

"I have noticed it, Mr. Dacre," answered Miss Lincoln. "Just now she
guarded her face with her bunch of roses, that Miss Windsor might not
perceive her scrutiny, and her look is not a friendly one."

"She is a beautiful tiger," said Sir John, "not a domestic cat, as many
women are; and she means mischief when her eyes fix upon any one in that
way."

Miss Lincoln looked at him in surprise, for he spoke earnestly, more
earnestly than he knew himself; for something told him that the
beautiful woman with the black gown and gleaming shoulders, sitting
opposite to him, was dangerous to him and his friends.

The dinner was over; the ladies swept from the room, Mrs. Carey
following close at Miss Windsor's side.

When the men had returned to sole possession of the dining-room the
company separated into little groups. Jawkins fastened upon the Duke,
whom Mr. Windsor relinquished with ill-concealed delight. Herr Diddlej
sat turning a lump of sugar with brandy in his coffee spoon, and smoking
cigarettes, which he rapidly rolled with his yellow-stained damp
fingers. Mr. Lincoln sat with Sydney, who forgot his hypochondria over
his cigar and became quite amusing, as the smile upon Lincoln's shrewd,
kindly face testified, for Richard Lincoln was a flint upon