, and with that slight air of
deliberation which characterized all his movements, seated himself. He
was in no way disquieted to find her dark, tired eyes still studying
him.

"How old are you, Mr. Hurd?" she asked.

"I am sixty-three, madam," he answered.

Her eyebrows were gently raised. To her it seemed incredible. She
thought of the men of sixty-three or thereabouts whom she knew, and her
lips parted in one of those faint, rare smiles of genuine amusement,
which smoothed out all the lines of her tired face. Visions of the
promenade at Marienbad and Carlsbad, the Kursaal at Homburg, floated
before her. She saw them all, the men whom she knew, with the story of
their lives written so plainly in their faces, babbling of nerves and
tonics and cures, the newest physician, the latest fad. Defaulters all
of them, unwilling to pay the great debt--seeking always a way out!
Here, at least, this man scored!

"You enjoy good health?" she remarked.

"I never have anything the matter with me," he answered simply. "I
suppose," he added, as though by an afterthought, "the life is a healthy
one."

"You find it--satisfying?" she asked.

He seemed puzzled.

"I have never attempted anything else," he answered. "It seems to be
what I am suited for."

She attempted to abandon the _role_ of questioner--to give a more
natural turn to the conversation.

"It is always," she remarked, "such a relief to get down into the
country at the end of the season. I wonder I don't spend more time here.
I daresay one could amuse oneself?" she added carelessly.

Mr. Hurd considered for a few moments.

"There are croquet and archery and tennis in the neighbourhood," he
remarked. "The golf course on the Park hills is supposed to be
excellent. A great many people come over to play."

She affected to be considering the question seriously. An intimate
friend would not have been deceived by her air of attention. Mr. Hurd
knew nothing of this. He, on his part, however, was capable of a little
gentle irony.

"It might amuse you," he remarked, "to make a tour of your estate. There
are some of the outlying portions which I think that I should have the
honour of showing you for the first time."

"I might find that interesting," she admitted. "By the bye, Mr. Hurd,
what sort of a landlord am I? Am I easy, or do I exact my last pound of
flesh? One likes to know these things."

"It depends upon the tenant," the agent answered. "There is not one of