o continue your friendship
or even your acquaintance with her!"

The quiet contempt of Rochester's words stung Saton into a moment of
fury.

"What sort of a creature am I, then," he exclaimed, "that you should
think me unworthy even to speak to your ward, or to the women of your
household? You treat me as though I were a criminal, or worse!"

Rochester tapped his riding boot with the end of his whip. Saton
watched him with fascinated eyes. There seemed something a little
ominous in the action, in the sight of that gently moving whip, held
so firmly in the long, sinewy fingers.

"What you are," Rochester said, leaning a little down from his horse,
"you know and I know. Let that be enough. Only remember that there
comes a time when threats cease, and actions commence. And as sure as
you and I are met here together this evening, Saton, I tell you that
if you offend again in this matter, I shall punish you. You
understand?"

Rochester swung his horse round and cantered down the lane. Saton
stood looking after him with white, angry face and clenched hands.

CHAPTER XXVI

THE DUCHESS'S DINNER PARTY

The Duchess welcomed the little party from Beauleys in person, and
with more than ordinary warmth.

"I am glad to see you all, of course," she said, "but I am really
delighted to see you about again, Henry. Do tell me, now. I have heard
so many contradictory reports. Did you shoot yourself, or was it one
of your guests who did it? I don't know how it is, but poor Ronald
always says that the men one asks to shoot, nowadays, hit everything
except the birds."

"My dear Duchess," Rochester answered, "I certainly did not shoot
myself. I have every confidence in my guests, and so far as we have
been able to ascertain, there wasn't another soul in the neighborhood.
Shall we say that I was shot by the act of God? There really doesn't
seem to be any other explanation."

The Duchess was not altogether satisfied.

"To-night I am going to offer you a great privilege," she said. "I am
going to give you a chance of finding out the answer to your riddle."

Rochester looked perplexed, and Lady Mary blandly curious. Pauline
alone seemed as though by instinct to realize what lay beneath their
hostess's words. Her face seemed suddenly to grow tense. She shrank
back--a slight, involuntary movement, but significant enough under the
circumstances.

"An answer to my riddle," Rochester remarked, smiling. "Really, I did
not kno