res deeply
grooved and cut, a delicate nostril, and a domed forehead over which fell
thick locks of black hair. He looked what he was--a man of wealth and
family, spoilt by long years of wandering and irresponsible living,
during which an inherited eccentricity and impatience of restraint had
developed into traits and manners which seemed as natural to himself as
they were monstrous in the sight of others. He had so far treated the
agent with the scantest civility during their progress through the house;
and Tyson's northern blood had boiled more than once.

But the inspection of the house had apparently put its owner in a good
temper, and he seemed to be now more genially inclined. He lit a
cigarette and offered Tyson one. Upstairs the child could be heard
wailing. Its mother and nurse were no doubt ministering to it. Mrs.
Melrose, so far as Tyson had observed her arrival, had cast hasty and
shivering looks round the comfortlessness of the hall and drawing-room;
had demanded loudly that some of the cases encumbering the hall and
passages should be removed or unpacked at once, and had then bade Mrs.
Dixon take her and the child to their rooms, declaring that she was
nearly dead and would sup upstairs and go to bed. She seemed to Tyson to
be a rather pretty woman, very small and dark, with a peevish, excitable
manner; and it was evident that her husband paid her little or no
attention.

"I can't altogether admire your taste in carpets, Tyson," said Melrose,
presently, with a patronizing smile, his eyes fastening on the
monstrosity in front of him.

The young man flushed.

"Your cheque, sir, was not a big one, and I had to make it go a long way.
It was no good trying the expensive shops."

"Oh, well!--I daresay Mrs. Melrose can put up with it. And what about
that sofa?" The speaker tried it--"Hm--not exactly Sybaritic--but very
fair, very fair! Mrs. Melrose will get used to it."

"Mrs. Melrose, sir, I fear, will find this place a bit lonesome, and out
of the way."

"Well, it is not exactly Piccadilly," laughed Melrose. "But a woman that
has her child is provided for. How can she be dull? I ask you"--he
repeated in a louder and rather hectoring voice--"how can she possibly be
dull?"

Tyson murmured something inaudible, adding to it--"And you, sir? Are you
a sportsman?"

Melrose threw up his hands contemptuously. "The usual British question!
What barbarians we are! It may no doubt seem to you extraordinary--but