e
been no surprise. In fact, he instinctively braced his not too
firm muscles. But nothing of the sort occurred. During the two
seconds--perhaps three--Mount Dunstan stood still and looked down at
him. The brief space at an end, he walked over to the hearth and stood
with his back to the big fireplace.

"You don't like her," he said, and his manner was that of a man dealing
with a matter of fact. "Why do you talk about her?"

He had got away again--quite away.

An ugly flush shot over Anstruthers' face. There was one more thing
to say--whether it was idiotic to say it or not. Things can always be
denied afterwards, should denial appear necessary--and for the moment
his special devil possessed him.

"I do not like her!" And his mouth twisted. "Do I not? I am not an old
woman. I am a man--like others. I chance to like her--too much."

There was a short silence. Mount Dunstan broke it.

"Then," he remarked, "you had better emigrate to some country with
a climate which suits you. I should say that England--for the
present--does not."

"I shall stay where I am," answered Anstruthers, with a slight
hoarseness of voice, which made it necessary for him to clear his
throat. "I shall stay where she is. I will have that satisfaction,
at least. She does not mind. I am only a racketty, middle-aged
brother-in-law, and she can take care of herself. As I told you, she has
the spirit of the huntress."

"Look here," said Mount Dunstan, quite without haste, and with an iron
civility. "I am going to take the liberty of suggesting something. If
this thing is true, it would be as well not to talk about it."

"As well for me--or for her?" and there was a serene significance in the
query.

Mount Dunstan thought a few seconds.

"I confess," he said slowly, and he planted his fine blow between
the eyes well and with directness. "I confess that it would not have
occurred to me to ask you to do anything or refrain from doing it for
her sake."

"Thank you. Perhaps you are right. One learns that one must protect
one's self. I shall not talk--neither will you. I know that. I was a
fool to let it out. The storm is over. I must ride home." He rose from
his seat and stood smiling. "It would smash up things nicely if the new
beauty's appearance in the great world were preceded by chatter of the
unseemly affection of some adorer of ill repute. Unfairly enough it is
always the woman who is hurt."

"Unless," said Mount Dunstan civilly, "th