ot coming," said Noel promptly.

"Come up here," Mordaunt repeated.

"What for?" Noel looked up at him, hands in pockets. "You'll be late for
lunch if you don't buck up," he remarked, with a smile of cheery
impudence.

His brother-in-law's face did not reflect his smile. It was grimly
determined. "Come up here," he said again.

"Do go, Noel," Chris murmured uneasily.

"I won't," said Noel doggedly. "I'm not going to be pitched into for
nothing. It was you who told the lie, not me."

"Oh, don't be absurd!" exclaimed Chris, in a fever of impatience. "Surely
you're not afraid of him!"

"Anyone can see you are," retorted Noel. "I'll bet you daren't go
yourself!"

She turned from him sharply without another word, and entered the house.

She met her husband on the threshold of his room, and pushed him
impulsively back, her hands against his breast.

"Trevor, please don't be angry with him. He--we often go on like that.
There is nothing to be angry about--indeed."

He took her hands and held them. She was panting a little; he waited
while she recovered herself. Then, "Chris," he said very gently, "don't
you think it is time you left off being afraid of me?"

"But when you are angry--" murmured Chris.

"You have never seen me angry yet."

"You are not angry with Noel?" she asked quickly.

He smiled a little. "My dear child, Noel is no more capable of making me
angry than that fly on the ceiling. But I am not going to have him
behaving badly for all that."

"But he didn't," she urged, in distress. "It was all my fault.
Trevor--Trevor, please don't say any more! He was quite right. I--I
didn't tell the truth."

She made the confession in a broken whisper, with her face hidden against
him. But a moment later she had sprung away in haste, for there came the
clatter of careless feet upon the stairs, and Noel dashed suddenly upon
the scene.

"Oh, I say, do stop jawing and come down," he said as he presented
himself. "Poor Aunt Phil is ravenous for her lunch. What do you want me
for, Trevor?"

But Mordaunt turned his back abruptly. "I don't want you now," he said.
"You can go."

"Dash it!" Noel said. "What a rotter you are!" He flung himself full
length upon the window-seat with elaborate nonchalance. "Run along,
Chris," he said. "We're going to talk politics. Shut the door after you.
That's right. Now, my good brother-in-law, what can I do for you?"

He sat up to slay a wasp on the window-pane, flicked the