other too many years to keep up this quarrel; I am getting rather sick
of it myself."

St. George shrugged his shoulders, placed the gun carefully in the rack
by the door, and maintained an attentive attitude. He would either fight
or make peace, but he must first learn the conditions. In the meantime
he would hold his peace.

Rutter strode past him to the fireplace, opened his riding-jacket, laid
his whip on the mantel, and with his hands deep in his breeches pockets
faced the room and his host, who had again taken his place by the table.

"The fact is, St. George, I have been greatly disturbed of late by
reports which have reached me about my son. He is with you, I presume?"

St. George nodded.

Rutter waited for a verbal reply, and receiving none, forged on: "Very
greatly disturbed; so much so that I have made an especial trip from
Moorlands to call upon you and ascertain their truth."

Again St. George nodded, the smile--one of extreme civility now--still
on his face. Then he added, flicking some stray grains of tobacco from
his sleeve with his fingers: "That was very good of you, Talbot--but go
on--I'm listening."

The colonel's eyes kindled. Temple's perfect repose--something he had
not expected--was beginning to get on his nerves, He cleared his throat
impressively and continued, his voice rising in intensity:

"Instead of leading the life of a young man brought up as a gentleman,
I hear he is consorting with the lowest class of people here in your
house--people who--"

"--Are my guests," interrupted St. George calmly--loosening the buttons
of his coat in search of his handkerchief--there being more tobacco on
his clothes than he had supposed.

"Yes, you have hit it exactly--your guests--and that is another thing I
have come to tell you, for neither I nor your friends can understand how
a man of your breeding should want to surround himself with----Is it
necessary that you should understand, Talbot?"--same low, incisive but
extremely civil voice, almost monotonous in its cadences. The cambric
was in full play now.

"Of course it is necessary when it affects my own flesh and blood. You
know as well as I do that this sot, Poe, is not a fit companion for a
boy raised as my Harry has been--a man picked out of the gutter--his
family a lot of play-actors--even worse, I hear. A fellow who staggers
into your house dead drunk and doesn't sober up for a week! It's
scandalous!"

Again St. George shrugged his