ther hand,
convinced him that Haddington was to her only a second string, and that,
unless compelled, she would not let Eugene go. She took occasion more
than once to show him that she regarded her relation to Eugene as fully
existent. No doubt she thought there was a chance that such words might
find their way to Eugene's ears. It is hardly necessary to say they did
not.

Watch as he might Ayre's chance was slow in coming. He knew very well
that the fact of a young lady, deserted by him who ought to have been in
attendance, consoling herself with a flirtation with somebody else, was
not enough for him to go upon. He must have something more tangible than
that. He did not, indeed, look for anything that would compel Eugene to
act; he had no expectation and, to do him justice, no hope of that, for
he knew Eugene would act on nothing but an extreme necessity. His hope
lay in Kate herself. On her he was prepared to have small mercy;
against her he felt justified in playing the very rigor of the game. But
for a long while he had no opportunity of beginning the rubber. A
fortnight wore away, and nothing was done. Ayre determined to wait on
events no longer; he would try his hand at shaping them.

"I wonder if Rick is too great a fool?" he said to himself meditatively
one morning, as he crossed one of the little bridges, and took his way
to the Kurhaus in search of his friend. "I must try him."

He found Lord Rickmansworth alone, but quite content. It was one of his
happy characteristics that he existed with delight under almost any
circumstances. One of his team was lame, and a great friend of his was
sulky and had sent him away, and yet he sat radiantly cheerful, with a
large cigar in his mouth and a small terrier by his side, subjecting
every lady who passed to a respectful and covert but none the less
searching and severe examination.

"I say, Rick, have you seen Haddington lately?"

"Yes; he's gone down the road with Kate Bernard to play tennis, or some
such foolery."

"With Kate?"

"Rather! Didn't expect anything else, did you?"

"Does he mean to marry that girl?" asked Ayre, with a face of great
innocence, much as if it had just occurred to him.

"Well, he can't, unless she chucks old Eugene over."

"Will she, do you think?"

"Well, I'm afraid not. I've got some money on that they're never
married, but I don't see my way to handling it."

"Much?"

"Well, no; about twopence-halfpenny--a fancy bet."

"