distinct use for him. Lady Cantourne was exceedingly gracious. She
remembered instantly that horticulture was among his somewhat antiquated
accomplishments, and she was immediately consumed with a desire to show
him the conservatory which she had had built outside the drawing-room
window. She took a genuine interest in this abode of flowers, and
watered the plants herself with much enthusiasm--when she remembered.

Added to a number of positive virtues the old gentleman possessed that
of abstaining from tea, which enabled the two horticulturists to repair
to the conservatory at once, leaving the young people alone at the other
end of the drawing-room.

Millicent smoothed her gloves with downcast eyes and that demure air by
which the talented fair imply the consciousness of being alone and out
of others' earshot with an interesting member of the stronger sex.

Guy sat and watched the Suede gloves with a certain sense of placid
enjoyment. Then suddenly he spoke, continuing his remarks where they had
been broken off by the advent of the useful old gentleman.

"You see," he said, "it is only natural that a great many people should
give me the cold shoulder. My story was a little lame. There is no
reason why they should believe in me."

"I believe in you," she answered.

"Thank you."

He looked at her in a strange way, as if he liked her terse creed, and
would fain have heard it a second time. Then suddenly he leant back with
his head against a corner of the piano. The fronds of a maidenhair fern
hanging in delicate profusion almost hid his face. He was essentially
muscular in his thoughts, and did not make the most of his dramatic
effects. The next remark was made by a pair of long legs ending off
with patent-leather boots which were not quite new. The rest of him was
invisible.

"It was a very unpleasant business," he said, in a jerky, self-conscious
voice. "I didn't know that I was that sort of fellow. The temptation was
very great. I nearly gave in and let him do it. He was a stronger man
than I. You know--we did not get on well together. He always hoped
that I would turn out a literary sort of fellow, and I suppose he was
disappointed. I tried at one time, but I found it was no good. From
indifference it turned almost to hatred. He disliked me intensely, and I
am afraid I did not care for him very much."

She nodded her head, and he went on. Perhaps he could see her through
the maidenhair fern. She was getting