tive hell, but it's no
business of yours!"

A flicker of temper shone for a second in Bathurst's eyes. The scorn had
penetrated even his thick skin. "None whatever," he said deliberately.
"Nor of yours either, so far as I can see."

"There you are wrong." Hotly Scott took him up. "It is the duty of every
man to prevent cruelty. Dinah has been treated like a bond-slave all her
life. What were you about to allow it?"

He flung the question fiercely. The man's careless repudiation of all
responsibility aroused in him a perfect storm of indignation. He was
probably more angry at that moment than he had ever been before.

Guy Bathurst stared at him for a second or two, his own resentment
quenched in amazement. Finally he laughed.

"If you were married to my wife, you'd know," he said. "Personally I like
a quiet life. Besides, discipline is good for youngsters. I think Lydia
is disposed to carry it rather far, I admit. But after all, a woman can't
do much damage to her own daughter. And anyhow it isn't a man's business
to interfere."

He broke off as the servant reappeared, and seated himself in a chair on
the other side of the fire. He drank some whisky and water in large,
appreciative gulps, and resumed his cigarette.

"If Dinah had seriously wanted to get away from it, she should have
married your brother," he said then. "It was her own doing entirely, this
last affair. A girl shouldn't jilt her lover at the last moment if she
isn't prepared to face the consequences. She knows her mother's temper by
this time, I should imagine. She might have guessed what was in store for
her." He looked across at Scott as one seeking sympathy. "You'll admit it
was a tomfool thing to do," he said. "I don't wonder at her mother
wanting to make her smart for it. I really don't. Dinah ought to have
known her own mind."

"She knows it now," said Scott grimly.

"Yes. So it appears. By the way, have you any idea what induced her to
throw your brother over in that way just at the last minute? It would be
interesting to know."

"Did she give you no reason?" said Scott. He hated parleying with the
man, but something impelled him thereto.

Guy Bathurst leaning back at his ease with his cigarette between his
lips, uttered a careless laugh. "She seemed to think she wasn't in love
with him. We couldn't get any more out of her than that. As a matter of
fact her mother was too furious to attempt it. But there must have been
some other reaso