* * * * *

Bertha strongly suspected a little manoeuvring of Nigel's in the
course of the last fortnight, but did not realise how much there had
been of it. The day Bertha had practically said he was not to interfere
any longer, Nigel thoroughly realised that Percy must be jealous. He was
wildly annoyed at this, since it would be a great obstacle, besides
proving Percy was in love, but he saw the urgency of falling in at once
with her wish; not opposing it, being absolutely obedient to it. This
was not the moment to push himself forward--to show his feelings. Tact
and diplomacy must be used. Of course, he had not the faintest notion
about Mary and her letters, but merely thought that a sudden relapse of
conjugal affection on Percy's side--confound him!--and an attack of
unwonted jealousy had made Percy say something to Bertha to cause her
coldness.

He remained away, but he thought of more than one plan to regain the old
intimacy.

Quite unscrupulously he played several little tricks, at least he made
several remarks about one to the other, to make the apparently
hesitating Rupert more interested in Miss Chivvey and less so in
Madeline, while he urged his brother Charlie on, and insisted on his
continuing his court. The result was quicker than he had expected, and
after a very little diplomacy Charlie had found Madeline willing to
accept him. As Madeline was to Bertha just like a sister, it was natural
that they should meet again now, and in this letter Nigel asked
permission to call and have a chat.

Bertha agreed, for although she was slightly on her guard against the
possibility of his wishing to flirt, she had not the faintest idea, as I
have said, of Nigel's determined resolve.

Nigel had been fairly unhappy of late. Caring very little for any of his
other friends, and having this _idee fixe_ about Bertha--which became
much stronger at the opposition and the idea of Percy's jealousy--he
moped a good deal and had spent more time than usual with Mary. Nigel
was one of those very rare men, who are becoming rarer and rarer, who,
having passed the age of thirty-five, still regard love as the principal
object of life. That Nigel did so was what made him so immensely popular
with women as a rule. Women feel instinctively when this is so, and the
man who makes sport, ambition or art his first interest, and women, and
romance in general, a mere secondary pleasure, is never regarded with