e prejudice of
nationality?" he expostulated, but quite good-humouredly, purposely
ignoring her real drift. "A good sort is a good sort, no matter what
his or her nationality. And I think you'll allow that old Stephanus and
his crowd come under that heading."

"So you seem to think," was the acid reply. "You have been there a good
deal of late, haven't you?"

"Yes, I like them very much, and the shoot is choice." And then he went
on to tell her about the bags he had made, and old Tant' Plessis and her
absurd perversities, and the ridiculous muddle the old woman had made
between his name and that of the sixteenth-century Reformer. His object
was to keep her attention away from personalities. But that object she
saw through.

"You were not so fond of them three or four weeks ago," she said, half
turned away from him, and beginning to speak quickly, while the sea-blue
eyes filled. "That is just the time that girl has been back. Goodness!
I never thought to see you--_you_--running after an ugly Dutch girl."

Every word grated upon Colvin's mind--grated intensely, so much so
indeed as to leave no room for anger, only disgust and disillusionment.
At that moment, too, there flashed vividly through his mind a vision of
the speaker, as contrasted with this "ugly Dutch girl" here in this very
room but a few minutes ago, and the contrast was all in favour of the
latter--yes, a hundred times over in her favour, he told himself. And
now this one was going to make a scene; so much was evident. She was
crudely, unsophisticatedly jealous, and had no self-control whatever.

Heavens! what an escape he had had!

"See here, May," he said. "That sort of remark is not to my liking at
all. It is--well, exceedingly unpleasant, and really I don't care about
listening to all this. I am responsible to nobody for my actions,
remember, and there is not one living soul who has the slightest right
or title to call me to account for anything I do or don't do. And I am
a little too old to begin to obey orders now. So if you will kindly
give up abusing people I like, and with whom I happen to be very
friendly, I shall be grateful. I don't like to hear it, and it doesn't
come well from you."

But the girl made no answer. She had dropped her face into her hands,
and was silently sobbing. He, watching her, was softened directly. His
first impulse was to take her in his arms and strive to comfort her. He
still had a very weak pla