ilful, dominating personality
like his would influence a girl whose affections were not bestowed
elsewhere; especially if he laid himself out to win her. It is probably
an overwhelming thing to be courted by a man whose name is known all
over the world. She had heard of him, of course, as a financial great
power, and she had no idea--she had lived mostly among people of
artistic or literary propensities--how much soulless inhumanity that
might involve. For all I know, she has no adequate idea of it to this
day. When I first heard of the affair the mischief was done, and I knew
better than to interpose my unsought opinions. She was of age, and there
was absolutely nothing against him from the conventional point of view.
Then I dare say his immense wealth would cast a spell over almost any
woman. Mabel had some hundreds a year of her own; just enough, perhaps,
to let her realize what millions really meant. But all this is
conjecture. She certainly had not wanted to marry some scores of young
fellows who, to my knowledge, had asked her; and though I don't believe,
and never did believe, that she really loved this man of forty-five, she
certainly did want to marry him. But if you ask me why, I can only say I
don't know."

Trent nodded, and after a few more paces looked at his watch. "You've
interested me so much," he said, "that I had quite forgotten my main
business. I mustn't waste my morning. I am going down the road to White
Gables at once, and I dare say I shall be poking about there until
mid-day. If you can meet me then, Cupples, I should like to talk over
anything I find out with you, unless something detains me."

"I am going for a walk this morning," Mr. Cupples replied. "I meant to
have luncheon at a little inn near the golf-course, the Three Tuns. You
had better join me there. It's further along the road, about a quarter
of a mile beyond White Gables. You can just see the roof between those
two trees. The food they give one there is very plain, but good."

"So long as they have a cask of beer," said Trent, "they are all right.
We will have bread and cheese, and oh, may Heaven our simple lives
prevent from luxury's contagion, weak and vile! Till then, good-by." He
strode off to recover his hat from the veranda, waved it to Mr. Cupples,
and was gone.

The old gentleman, seating himself in a deck-chair on the lawn, clasped
his hands behind his head and gazed up into the speckless blue sky. "He
is a dear fellow,