l, I have been
out riding--with Nigel."

"Oh, Nigel lives round here, does he?" said Wynne, with a sarcastic
laugh. "Like it, old man?"

"Oh, I like it well enough," retorted Merriton. "At any rate I'll be
obliged to get used to it. I've said good-bye to India for keeps, Wynne.
I'm settled here for good."

Wynne swung upon his heel at the tone of Merriton's voice, and his eyes
narrowed. He stood almost a head taller than Nigel--who was by no means
short--and was big and broad and heavy-chested. Merriton always felt at
a disadvantage.

"So? You are going to settle down to it altogether, then?" said Wynne,
with an odd note in his deep, booming voice. 'Toinette sent a quick,
rather scared look into her lover's face. He smiled back as though to
reassure her.

"Yes," he said, a trifle defiantly. "You see, Wynne, I've come into a
place near here. I'm--I'm hoping to get married soon. 'Toinette and I,
you know. She's done me the honour to promise to be my wife. Congratulate
me, won't you?"

It was like a blow full in the face to the other man. For a moment all
the colour drained out of his bronzed cheeks and he went as white as
death.

"I--I--certainly congratulate you, with all my heart," he said, speaking
in a strange, husky voice. "Believe me, you're a luckier chap, Merriton,
than you know. Quite the luckiest chap in the world."

He took out his handkerchief suddenly and blew his nose, and then wiped
his forehead, which, Merriton noted, was damp with perspiration. Then he
felt in his pockets and produced a cigarette.

"I may smoke, 'Toinette? Thanks. I've had a long ride, and a hard
one.... And so you two are going to get married, are you?"

'Toinette's face, too, was rather pale. She smiled nervously, and
instinctively her hand crept out and touched Merriton's sleeve. She could
feel him stiffen suddenly, and saw how proudly he threw back his head.

"Yes," said 'Toinette. "We're going to be married, Dacre. And I am--oh,
so happy! I know you cannot help being pleased--with that. And uncle,
too. He seems delighted."

Wynne measured her with his eyes for a moment. Then he looked quickly
away.

"Well, Merriton, you've got your own back for little Rosie Deverill,
haven't you? Remember how heart-broken you were at sixteen, when she
turned her rather wayward affections to me? Now--the tables have turned.
Well, I wish you luck. Think I'll be getting along. I've a good deal of
work to do this evening, and I'll be sh