her voice. "I am so sorry,
dear child. I ought to have gone to look after you. I was selfish."

"Oh no--indeed!" Dinah protested. "It was entirely my own fault. He would
have been cross in any case. They are like that."

Isabel uttered a sigh. "I shall have to try to meet them. Naturally they
will not let you come to total strangers. Stumpy, remind me in the
morning! I must manage somehow to meet this child's guardians."

"Of course, dear," said Scott.

Dinah, glancing towards him, saw him exchange a swift look with the old
nurse in the background, but his voice held neither surprise nor
gratification. He took out a cigarette and began to smoke.

Isabel leaned back in her chair with abrupt weariness as if in reaction
from the strain of a sudden unwonted exertion. "Let me see! Do I know
your Christian name? Ah yes,--Dinah! What a pretty gipsy name! I think
you are a little gipsy, are you not? You have the charm of the woods
about you. Won't you sit in that chair, dear? You can't be comfortable on
the floor."

But Dinah preferred to sit down against her knee, still holding the
slender, inert hand.

"Tell me about your home!" Isabel said, closing languid eyes. "I can't
talk much more, but I can listen. It does not tire me to listen."

Dinah hesitated somewhat. "I don't think you would find it very
interesting," she said.

"But I am interested," Isabel said. "You live in the country, I think you
said."

"At a place called Perrythorpe," Dinah said. "It's a great hunting
country. My father hunts a lot and shoots too."

"Do you hunt?" asked Isabel.

"Oh no, never! There's never any time. I go for rambles sometimes on
Sundays. Other days I am always busy. Fancy me hunting!" said Dinah, with
a little laugh.

"I used to," said Isabel. "They always said I should end with a broken
neck. But I never did."

"Are you very fond of riding?" asked Dinah.

"Not now, dear. I am not fond of anything now. Tell me some more, won't
you? What makes you so busy that you never have time for any fun?"

Again Dinah hesitated. "You see, we're poor," she said. "My mother and I
do all the work of the house and garden too."

"And your father is able to hunt?" Isabel's eyes opened. Her hand closed
upon Dinah's caressingly.

"Oh yes, he has always hunted," Dinah said. "I don't think he could do
without it. He would find it so dull."

"I see," said Isabel. "But he can't afford pleasures for you."

There was no perceptible sarcas