made farther West. He's a traveler in paints and
varnishes, and a very enterprising person, as well as an unusually good
sort. But I've told you enough about myself; I want your news."

Blanche thought it cost her husband an effort to fall in with his
cousin's casual mood. Blake, however, seemed quite at ease, and she
was growing interested in him. He reminded her of the Challoner
portraits in the dark oak gallery at Sandymere, but she thought him
lighter, more brilliant, and, in a sense, more human than those stern
soldiers. Then she remembered that his Irish blood explained something.

They talked a while about English friends and relatives; and then Blake
asked rather abruptly:

"And the Colonel?"

"Well," said Bertram, "I heard that you saw him, Dick."

"I did, for half an hour. I felt that it was my duty, though the
interview was hard on us both. He was fair, as he always was, and
tried to hide his feelings. I couldn't blame him because he failed."

Bertram looked away, and Blake's face was troubled. There was a hint
of emotion in his voice as he went on, turning to Blanche:

"Whatever he may think of me, I have a sincere respect for Colonel
Challoner; and I owe him more than I can ever repay. He brought me up
after my father's death and started me, like a son, in an honorable
career." His tone grew lighter. "It's one of my few virtues that I
don't forget my debts. But I've kept you some time. My American
friend hasn't turned up yet and I may be here a few days. Where are
you staying? I'll look you up before I leave."

"We go West to-morrow morning. Come down and have dinner with us at
the Windsor," Bertram said; and when Mrs. Challoner seconded the
request, they went up the steps to the platform from which the cable
train started.

CHAPTER IV

THE MAN FROM CONNECTICUT

After an excellent dinner, Mrs. Keith took Blanche away, and the men
found a quiet corner in the rotunda, where they sat talking for a while.

"I have an appointment to keep and must go in a few minutes," Blake
said, glancing at his watch. "Make my excuses to your wife; I shall
not see her again. It would be better: there's no reason why she
should be reminded of anything unpleasant now. She's a good woman,
Bertram, and I'm glad she didn't shrink from me. It would have been a
natural thing, but I believe she was sorry and was anxious to make all
the allowances she could."

Challoner was silent for a few mom