said, instantly.

"Indeed!" she replied with lifted eye-brows. "Our own in the aggregate
or differentiated?"

"In the aggregate!" he laughed; "but quite the equal of our own
differentiated. If Croyden were a marrying man--with sufficient income
for two--I should give him about six months, at the outside."

"And how much would you give one with sufficient for two--_yourself_,
for instance?"

"Just long enough to choose the girl--and convince her of the propriety
of the choice."

"And do you expect to join Geoffrey, soon?" meaningly.

"As soon as I can get through here,--probably in a day or two."

"Then, we may look for the new Mrs. Macloud in time for the holidays, I
presume.--Sort of a Christmas gift?"

"About then--if I can pick among so many, and she ratifies the pick."

"You haven't, yet, chosen?"

"No!--there are so many I didn't have time to more than look them over.
When I go back, I'll round them up, cut out the most likely, and try to
tie and brand her."

"Colin!" cried Miss Cavendish. "One would think, from your talk, that
Geoffrey was in a cowboy camp, with waitresses for society."

He grinned, and lighted a fresh cigarette.

She tossed him an alluring look.

"And nothing can induce you to tell me the location of the camp?" she
implored.

He smoked, a bit, in silence. Should he or should he not?...

"No!--not now!" he said, slowly. "Let us try the bond matter, first. If
he sells, I think he will return; if not, I'll then consider telling."

"You're a good fellow, Colin, dear!" she whispered, leaning over and
giving his hand an affectionate little pat. "You're so nice and
comfortable to have around--you never misunderstand, nor draw
inferences that you shouldn't."

"Which means, I'm not to draw inferences now?" he said.

"Nor at any other time," she remarked.

"And the reward?"

"Will be forthcoming," with an alluring smile.

"I've a mind to take part payment now," said he, intercepting the hand
before she could withdraw it.

"If you can, sir!" whisking it loose, and darting around a table.

"A challenge, is it? Oh, very well!" and he sprang after.

With a swift movement, she swept up her skirts and fled--around chairs,
and tables, across rugs, over sofas and couches--always manoeuvring to
gain the doorway, yet always finding him barring the way;--until, at
last, she was forced to refuge behind a huge davenport, standing with
one end against the wall.

"Now, will you surrender