f you ever become a
very rich man and take me back to England, you'll have to "Chris and
Molly" them and to give him a big order for wine....'

That mollified McKeith.

'And if I wasn't a rich man, and didn't give a big order, they wouldn't
care a twopenny damn for me.'

'Molly mightn't--unless by chance you were taken up in high quarters
and made the fashion--like Cecil Rhodes and "Doctor Jim," or some new
edition of Buffalo Bill. Then she'd call you "one of nature's uncrowned
kings." But Chris Gaverick isn't a bad sort, if his wife would let him
be natural.... They hadn't got my cablegram about you, Colin, when this
was written,' she went on. 'I wish I could have told the Queen myself.
I'm sure she would have been sympathetic. And now I don't suppose I
shall ever meet her again.'

He rejoined with clumsy sarcasm.

'I see. The Queen of Hartenburg was an intimate friend of yours--the
sort of chum who'd have been likely to drop in any day for a yarn and a
cup of tea!'

'She often did when she hunted with our hounds in Ireland, and it IS
true that the Queen of Hartenburg was quite an intimate friend of
mine--for two winters, anyhow. But I assure you, it hasn't made me
proud, and if the Queen of Hartenburg bores you, let us talk of
something else.'

She gave another glance at the last sheet of Lady Gaverick's letter and
thrust it into a pigeon-hole of the writing-table, then came back to
the long settee on which he sat. All the time, his gaze had never left
her. She saw that he was disturbed.

'What is the matter?' she asked again, and sat down, a little way from
him, on the settee. He turned sideways to her, bending forward, one
large hand twisting his fair beard. There was a hungry look in his
eyes, but his passing ill-humour had melted into a deep, adoring
tendeness.

'Biddy--my mate--will you answer me a question--truthfully?'

'I believe I can say honestly, that truth is one of my strong points,'
she parried lightly.

'I want you to be serious. I mean it seriously. I want you to tell me
what determined you on marrying a rough chap like me? That
letter--thinking of you among those grandees, you talking a language
that's worse than Greek to me, brings the wonder of it home. As I look
at you, the thing seems just incredible.'

'I can't understand why it should seem so surprising.'

'WHY! You know what I mean. It's not only that your birth and bringing
up are so superior to mine, and that you had a right