f."

"I like it, sir," snapped the Major, "because I am assured of playing
against a gentleman."

Rand let his hand fall from the table. "Major Churchill, I am leaving
Fontenoy immediately. Perhaps I ought to tell you what I have just told
your brother: I love Miss Churchill--"

The Major rose from his chair. "Have you spoken to her?"

"Yes, I have asked her to marry me."

"Indeed!" said the Major huskily. "May I ask what Miss Churchill
replied?"

"Miss Churchill loves me," answered Rand. "She will do what I wish."

The silence grew painful. The words, acid and intolerable, that Rand
expected, did not seem to come easily to the Major's dry lips. He looked
small, thin, and frozen, grey and drawn of face, as though the basilisk
had confronted him. When at last he spoke, it was in a curiously remote
voice, lucid and emotionless. "Well, why not? All beliefs die--die and
rot! A vain show--and this, too, was of the charnel!"

He turned upon Rand as if he would have struck him, then drew back, made
in the air an abrupt and threatening gesture, and with a sound like a
stifled cry passed the other and entered the house. Rand heard him go
down the hall, and the closing of the library door.

The young man's heart was hot and sore. He went up to the blue room,
where he found Joab packing his portmanteau. A few peremptory words sent
the man to the stables, while his master with rapid fingers collected
and laid together the papers with which the room was strewn. The task
finished, he threw himself for a moment into the great chair and looked
about him. He was capable of great attachment to place, and he had loved
this room. Now the mandarin smiled obliquely on him, and the moon-clock
ticked the passing moments, the impossible blue roses flowered on
thornless stems, and the picture of Washington looked calmly down from
the opposite wall. He put his hand over his eyes, and sat still, trying
to calm the storm within him. There were in his mind joy and gratitude,
hurt pride and bitter indignation, and a thousand whirling thoughts as
to ways and means, the overcoming of obstacles, and the building of a
palace fit to shelter his happiness. The clock struck, and he started
up. Not for much would he have overstayed his hour.

He left the room and passed through the silent house, mounted his horse,
and rode away. A crowd had witnessed his arrival there; only a few
wondering servants were gathered to see him depart. He gave them gol