good deal about Borkins and how he had
lied to him about his uncle's disappearance upon that first night.
Between Borkins and himself there grew up a spirit of distrust which he
regretted yet did nothing to counteract. In fact it is to be feared that
he did his best at times to irritate the staid old man who had been in
the family so long. Borkins _did_ amuse him, and he couldn't help leading
him on. Borkins, noting this attitude, drew himself into himself and his
face became mask-like in its impassivity.

But if Borkins became a stone image whenever Merriton was about, his
effusiveness was over-powering at such times as Mr. Brellier paid a visit
to the Towers. He followed both Brellier and his niece wherever they went
like a shadow. Jokingly one day, Merriton had made the remark: "Borkins
might be your factotum rather than mine, Mr. Brellier; indeed I've no
doubt he would be, if the traditions of the house had not so long lain in
his hands." He was rewarded for this remark by a sudden tightening of
Brellier's lips, and then by an equally sudden smile. They were very good
friends these days--Brellier and Merriton, and got on very excellently
together.

And then, as the days wore themselves away and turned into months,
Merriton woke up to the fact that he could wait no longer before putting
his luck to the test so far as 'Toinette was concerned. He had already
confided his secret to Brellier, who laughed and patted him on the back
and told him that he had known of it a long time and wished him luck. It
wasn't long after this he was telling Brellier the good news that
'Toinette had accepted, and the two of them came to tell him of their
happiness.

"So?" Mr. Brellier said quietly. "Well, I am very, very glad. You have
taken your time, _mes enfants_, in settling this greatest of all
questions, but perhaps you have been wise.... I am very happy for you, my
'Toinette, for I feel that your future is in the keeping of a good and
true man. There are all too few in the world, believe me!...

"'Toinette, a friend awaits you in the drawing-room. Someone, I fear me,
who will be none too pleased to hear this news, but that's as may be.
Dacre Wynne is there, 'Toinette."

At the name a chill came over Merriton.

_Dacre Wynne!_ And here! Impossible, and yet the name was too uncommon
for it to be a different person from the man who always seemed somehow to
turn up wherever he, Merriton, might chance to be. Sort of a fateful
affi