inly no longer in her first youth, but sound, clever and
full of "go." She was not called upon to shine on a race-course, but
carried her master admirably in Station paper-chases on Thursday
afternoons.

By the MacNab this investment was looked upon with a dubious and
unfavourable eye, although he was aware that the price of "Moonshine"
had come out of a small nest-egg which her owner had brought from home.
He pointed out the enormous price of gram, or English oats, and he
earnestly entreated Shafto "not to be led into follies by other people"
(meaning FitzGerald), "but to keep his head and go slow."

During this month of November Shafto had frequently come across his
fellow-passengers in the _Blankshire_; even Lady Puffle had
acknowledged his existence with a bow; not once had he beheld the
desire of his eyes--Miss Leigh. She appeared to have vanished as
completely as a summer mist and, it was whispered, had been swallowed
up and submerged by the German colony.

Mrs. Krauss had vouchsafed no notice of his visit and card; her niece
was never to be seen either at the Gymkhana, or on the lakes--the
principal meeting-places for young and old. More than once he imagined
that he had caught sight of her in the cathedral at evening service,
but she looked so different in smart Sunday clothes--a feathered hat
and gauzy gown--that he might have been mistaken, and he heard from
MacNab (the gossip of the chummery) that Krauss had brought forward a
remarkably pretty niece, who had recently played in a concert at the
German Club, and made a sensational success.

When Shafto rode in the mornings, he eyed expectantly every passing or
approaching habit, but Sophy Leigh was never among the early
cavalcade--for the excellent reason that she had no horse.

Mrs. Gregory, in spite of multifarious occupations as the firm's
vice-reine, had by no means forgotten pretty Miss Leigh, nor her
cousin's emphatic instructions; the girl had failed to accompany her to
the Gymkhana dance--"her aunt was ill; she had been unable to leave
her"--a stereotyped excuse to every invitation. The truth was that
Mrs. Krauss, after two or three social efforts, culminating in a large
dinner-party to her German neighbours, had collapsed with one of her
worst attacks, and between nursing her relative and housekeeping for
Herr Krauss (who was shamelessly greedy and exacting), Sophy had not a
moment to spare, and the Madras boy turned away all callers--includin