you
must have noticed that many men of your acquaintance--men otherwise
sensible--take quite another; that in the city, for instance, a hard
felt hat is not usually worn with a frock coat."

"Granted," said the Lord Proprietor; "though I could never understand
why."

"And you have noticed that soldiers are even more particular; and the
reason with them is perhaps a little more easily grasped. Their uniform
is a symbol, so to speak. It stands for the service to which a good
soldier should be devoted."

"If you had seen that man's small-clothes!"

"Yes, I grant that Archelaus neglects his regimentals. But to neglect
them, and to be willing to mix them up with civilian clothes, are two
very different things. Perhaps you did not think of this?"

"Really, now," answered Sir Caesar, "I should not have supposed that it
mattered what these men wore, in such an out-of-the-world spot."

Vashti's eyes rested on him for a second or two, in a kind of wondering
despair at his obtuseness. But she controlled herself to reply quite
patiently:

"At any rate, it was wrong of me to encourage the men's resentment, and
I came here this morning to beg your pardon."

He acknowledged this with a bow, but stood silent for a moment, eyeing
her.

"You are a relative of Major Vigoureux?" he asked, after a pause.

"No."

"You are staying with him, I understand?"

"No." Vashti shook her head, with a smile. "But I very much want you to
forgive me," she went on; "for I have another favour to ask you."

Again he bowed slightly. "You give my curiosity no rest, Miss Cara, and
I perceive you mean to satisfy it only in your own way. As for
the--er--incident we have been discussing, pray consider that--so far
as you are concerned--I dismiss it." He did so with a slight wave of
the hand. "You wish to ask me a favour?"

"I do. I came to plead with you; to say a word on behalf of Eli
Tregarthen, your tenant on Saaron Island."

The Lord Proprietor started. "Are you at the bottom of that also?" he
asked, angrily.

Vashti's eyes opened wide in astonishment.

"I beg your pardon?" she murmured. "I do not understand."

"It seems to me," he caught her up, "that for a total stranger, you are
losing remarkably little time."

"In what, sir?" she demanded, facing him fairly, with a lift of her
handsome chin.

"In subverting my authority, ma'am; or, rather, in prompting others to
subvert it.... Though, to be sure," he went on, in sarcastic wrath,