--quite--and her manners, her mother--everything impossible!"

It was still incredible that Robin, the work of her hands as it were,
into whom she had poured all things that were lovely and of good
report, could have made love to an ordinary girl of the middle
classes--a vulgar girl with a still more vulgar mother.

But in spite of her vulgarity she was jealous of her. "You don't care
for her any longer, Robin?"

"Now?--oh no--not for a long time--I don't think I ever did really. I
can't think how I was ever such a fool."

"She still threatens Breach of Promise," said Garrett, whose mind was
slowly working as to the best means of proving his practical utility.
"That's the point, of course. That the letters are there and that we
have got to get them back. What kind of letters were they? Did you
actually give her hopes?"

Robin blushed. "Yes, I'm afraid I did--as well as I can remember, and
judging by her answers. I said the usual sort of things----" He
paused. It was best, he felt, to leave it vague.

But Clare had scarcely arrived at the danger of it yet--the danger to
the House. Her present thought was of Robin; that she must alter her
feelings about him, take him from his pedestal--a Trojan who could make
love to any kind of girl!

"I can't think of it now," she said; "it's confusing. We must see
what's to be done. We'll talk about it some other time. It's hard to
see just at present."

Garrett looked puzzled. "It's a bit of a mess," he said. "But we'll
see----" and left the room with an air of importance.

Robin turned to go, and then walked over to his aunt, and put his hand
on her sleeve.

"Don't think me such a rotter," he said. "I am awfully sorry--it's
about you that I care most--but I've learnt a lesson; I'll never do
anything like that again."

She smiled up at him, and took his hand in hers.

"Why, old boy, no. Of course I was a little surprised. But I don't
mind very much if you care for me in the same way. That's all I have,
Robin--your caring; and I don't think it matters very much what you do,
if I still have that."

"Of course you have," he said, and bent down and kissed her. Then he
left the room.

CHAPTER IX

"I'm worse to-day," said Sir Jeremy, looking at Harry, "and I'll be off
under a month."

He seemed rather pathetic--the brave look had gone from his eyes, and
his face and hands were more shrivelled than ever. He gave the
impression of cowering in b