ever be
happy again?" he asked himself.

The last sight he had had of her had cut him to the heart. She had
conquered her tears at last, but her smile was the saddest thing he had
ever seen. It was as though her vanished childhood had suddenly looked
forth at him and bidden him farewell. He felt that he would never see
the child Dinah again.

The return of the servant with his drink brought him back to his
immediate surroundings. He sat down in an easy-chair before the fire to
mix it.

The man turned to go, but he had not reached the end of the hall when the
front-door bell rang again. He went soft-footed to answer it.

Scott glanced over his shoulder as the door opened, and heard his own
name.

"Is Mr. Studley here?" a man's voice asked.

"Yes, sir. Just here, sir," came the answer, and Scott rose with a weary
gesture.

"Oh, here you are!" Airily Guy Bathurst advanced to meet him. "Don't let
me interrupt your drink! I only want a few words with you."

"I'll fetch another glass, sir" murmured the discreet man-servant, and
vanished.

Scott stood, stiff and uncompromising, by his chair. There was a hint of
hostility in his bearing. "What can I do for you?" he asked.

Bathurst ignored his attitude with that ease of manner of which he was a
past-master. "Well I thought perhaps you could give me news of Dinah" he
said. "Billy tells me he left you with her this morning."

"I see" said Scott. He looked at the other man with level, unblinking
eyes. "You are beginning to feel a little anxious about her?" he
questioned.

"Well, I think it's about time she came home," said Bathurst. He took out
a cigarette and lighted it. "Her mother is wondering what has become of
her," he added, between the puffs.

"I posted a letter to Mrs. Bathurst about an hour ago," said Scott. "She
will get it in the morning."

"Indeed!" Bathurst glanced at him. "And is her whereabouts to remain a
mystery until then?"

"That letter will reassure you as to her safety," Scott returned quietly.
"But it will not enlighten you as to her whereabouts. She is in good
hands, and it is not her intention to return home--at least for the
present. Under the circumstances you could scarcely compel her to do so."

"I never compel her to do anything," said Bathurst comfortably. "Her
mother keeps her in order, I have nothing to do with it."

"Evidently not." A sudden sharp quiver of scorn ran through Scott's
words. "Her mother may make her life a posi