his ease the little scene which
was taking place below him.

On his bicycle on the smooth-shaven lawn was Dick, wheeling slowly in
and out among the stone-edged flower-beds, an apricot in each broad
palm, while he discoursed in a dispassionate manner to the two excited
little boys who were making futile rushes for the apricots. The
governess and Rachel were looking on. Rachel had arrived at Westhope the
day before from Southminster. "Take your time, my son," said Dick, just
eluding by a hair's-breadth a charge through a geranium-bed on the part
of the eldest boy. "If you are such jolly little fools as to crack your
little skulls on the sun-dial, I shall eat them both myself. Miss Turner
says you may have them, so you've only got to take them. I can't keep on
offering them all day long. My time"--(Dick ran his bicycle up a
terrace, and, as soon as the boys were up, glided down again)--"my time
is valuable. You don't want them?" A shrill disclaimer and a fresh
onslaught. "Miss Turner, they thank you very much, but they don't care
for apricots."

Half a second more and Dick skilfully parted from his bicycle and was
charged by his two admirers and severely pummelled as high as they could
reach. When they had been led away by Miss Turner, each biting an
apricot and casting longing backward looks at their friend, Rachel and
Dick wandered to the north side of the abbey and sat down there in the
shade.

Lord Newhaven could still see them, could still note her amused face
under her wide white hat. He was doing his best for Dick, and Dick was
certainly having his chance, and making the most of it according to his
lights.

"But, all the same, I don't think he has a chance," said Lord Newhaven
to himself. "That woman, in spite of her frank manner and her
self-possession, is afraid of men; not of being married for her money,
but of man himself. And whatever else he may not be, Dick is a man.
It's the best chance she will ever get, so it is probable she won't take
it."

Lord Newhaven sauntered back down the narrow black oak staircase to his
own room on the ground-floor. He sat down at his writing-table and took
out of his pocket a letter which he had evidently read before. He now
read it slowly once more.

"Your last letter to me had been opened," wrote his brother from India,
"or else it had not been properly closed. As you wrote on business, I
wish you would be more careful."

"I will," said Lord Newhaven, and he wrote a