Keith was watching her, she was glad of the chance of
explaining that she had not renewed her acquaintance with the Colonel.
As she had now spent a fortnight with Mrs. Foster, who knew him well,
this should disarm any suspicion that Mrs. Keith might entertain.

"I don't know why we're standing when there's room for all of us in the
recess," said their hostess, who led the way towards it, and they
dropped into casual conversation when tea was brought them.

The evening passed pleasantly, for Mrs. Chudleigh who possessed some
charm of manner, exerted herself to be agreeable to the newcomers.
Nevertheless she was looking forward to the next day's visit with
eagerness and wondering how she could best make use of the opportunity.

At Sandymere, three miles away, Colonel Challoner spent the evening in
his library with his guest. It was a large and simply furnished room,
but there was a tone of austere harmony in all its appointments. The
dark oak table, rows of old books in faded leather bindings, antique
lamps, and straight-backed chairs were in keeping with the severe lines
of the sombre panels and the heavy, square moulding of the ceiling.
Two or three wax candles in an old silver holder stood on a small table
by the wide hearth on which a cheerful wood fire burned, but most of
the room was shadowy.

The sense of empty space and gloom had, however, no effect upon the two
elderly men who sat with a cigar box and decanter in front of them,
engaged in quiet, confidential talk. Challoner was white-haired,
straight, and spare, with aquiline features and piercing eyes;
Greythorpe broad-shouldered and big, with a heavy-jawed, thoughtful
face. They had been fast friends since they had met a number of years
ago when Challoner was giving evidence before a parliamentary
commission.

"So you have not heard from Blake after the day he came here,"
Greythorpe said by and by.

"Never directly," Challoner replied. "On the whole, it is better so,
though I regret it now and then. A weakness on my part, perhaps, but I
was fond of Dick and expected much from him. However, it seems that
Bertram and Margaret Keith met him in Montreal, and she is coming here
to-morrow."

"A very sad affair." Greythorpe mused. "A promising career cut short
and a life ruined by a moment's failure of nerve. The price paid for
it was a heavy one. Still, I found the matter difficult to understand,
because, so far as I could tell, there was nothing