rned to
his pet grievance.

"You don't understand? Well, you will soon." She grew cooler as her
mischievous pleasure in puzzling him overcame her wrath. "You'll know
what you've done soon."

"Shall I? How shall I find it out?"

"You'll be sorry when--when a certain thing happens."

He threw himself into a chair with a peevish laugh.

"I confess your riddles rather bore me. Is there any answer to this
one?"

"Yes, very soon. I've been to see Lady Evenswood."

"She knows the answer, does she?"

"Perhaps." Her animation suddenly left her. "But I suppose it's all no
use now," she said dolefully.

They sat silent for a minute or two, Harry seeming to fall into a fit of
abstraction.

"What did you mean by saying I oughtn't to have taken her to dinner and
so on?" he asked, as Mina rose to go.

She shook her head. "I've nothing more to say," she declared.

"And you say I'm half in love with her?"

"Yes, I do," she snapped viciously as she turned toward the door. But
she looked back at him before she went out.

"As far as that goes," he said slowly, "I'm not sure you're wrong,
Madame Zabriska. But I could never marry her."

The Imp launched a prophecy, confidently, triumphantly, maliciously.

"Before very long she'll be the one to say that, and you've got yourself
to thank for it too! Good-by!"

She was gone. Harry sat down and slowly filled and lit his pipe. It was
probably all nonsense; but again he recollected Cecily's words: "If ever
the time comes, I shall remember!"

Whatever might be the state of his feelings toward her, or of hers
toward him, a satisfactory outcome seemed impossible. And somehow this
notion had the effect of spoiling the success of the day for Harry
Tristram; so that among the Imp's whirling words there was perhaps a
grain or two of wisdom. At least his talk with her did not make Harry's
visions less constant or less intense.

XXII

AN INSULT TO THE BLOOD

It could not be denied that Blinkhampton was among the things which
arose out of Blent. To acknowledge even so much Harry felt to be a slur
on his independence, on the new sense of being able to do things for
himself in which his pride, robbed of its old opportunities, was taking
refuge and finding consolation. It was thanks to himself anyhow that it
had so arisen, for Iver was not the man to mingle business and
sentiment. Harry snatched this comfort, and threw his energies into the
work, both as a trial of his powe