uch an American as himself should be. Lord Westholt would in
time be what his father was. He had inherited from him good looks, good
feeling, and a sense of humour. Yes, he had been given from the outset
all that the other man had been denied. She was thinking of Mount
Dunstan as "the other man," and spoke of him.

"You know Lord Mount Dunstan?" she said.

Westholt hesitated slightly.

"Yes--and no," he answered, after the hesitation. "No one knows him very
well. You have not met him?" with a touch of surprise in his tone.

"He was a passenger on the Meridiana when I last crossed the Atlantic.
There was a slight accident and we were thrown together for a few
moments. Afterwards I met him by chance again. I did not know who he
was."

Lord Westholt showed signs of hesitation anew. In fact, he was rather
disturbed. She evidently did not know anything whatever of the Mount
Dunstans. She would not be likely to hear the details of the scandal
which had obliterated them, as it were, from the decent world.

The present man, though he had not openly been mixed up with the hideous
thing, had borne the brand because he had not proved himself to possess
any qualities likely to recommend him. It was generally understood that
he was a bad lot also. To such a man the allurements such a young
woman as Miss Vanderpoel would present would be extraordinary. It was
unfortunate that she should have been thrown in his way. At the same
time it was not possible to state the case clearly during one's first
call on a beautiful stranger.

"His going to America was rather spirited," said the mellow voice beside
him. "I thought only Americans took their fates in their hands in
that way. For a man of his class to face a rancher's life means
determination. It means the spirit----" with a low little laugh at the
leap of her imagination--"of the men who were Mount Dunstans in early
days and went forth to fight for what they meant to have. He went to
fight. He ought to have won. He will win some day."

"I do not know about fighting," Lord Westholt answered. Had the fellow
been telling her romantic stories? "The general impression was that he
went to America to amuse himself."

"No, he did not do that," said Betty, with simple finality. "A sheep
ranch is not amusing----" She stopped short and stood still for a
moment. They had been walking down the avenue, and she stopped because
her eyes had been caught by a figure half sitting, half lying in