how he was going to do. His work is
excellent--excellent."

It was high praise, but it was deserved, and Mr. Robert Vyner would have
been the first to admit it. His monstrous suspicion was daily growing
less monstrous and more plausible. It became almost a conviction, and he
resolved to test it by seeing Joan and surprising her with a few sudden
careless remarks of the kind that a rising K.C. might spring upon
a particularly difficult witness. For various reasons he chose an
afternoon when the senior partner was absent, and, after trying in vain
to think out a few embarrassing questions on the way, arrived at the
house in a condition of mental bankruptcy.

The obvious agitation of Miss Hartley as she shook hands did not tend to
put him at his ease. He stammered something about "congratulations" and
the girl stammered something about "thanks," after which they sat still
and eyed each other nervously.

"Beautiful day," said Mr. Vyner at last, and comforted himself with the
reflection that the most eminent K.C.'s often made inane remarks with
the idea of throwing people off their guard.

Miss Hartley said "Yes."

"I hope you had a nice time in town?" he said, suddenly.

"Very nice," said Joan, eying him demurely.

"But of course you did," said Robert, with an air of sudden remembrance.
"I suppose Captain Trimblett knows London pretty well?"

"Pretty well," repeated the witness.

Mr. Vyner eyed her thoughtfully. "I hope you won't mind my saying so,"
he said, slowly, "but I was awfully pleased to hear of your marriage. I
think it is always nice to hear of one's friends marrying each other."

"Yes," said the girl.

"And Trimblett is such a good chap," continued Mr. Vyner. "He is so
sensible for his age."

He paused expectantly, but nothing happened.

"So bright and cheerful," he explained.

Miss Hartley still remaining silent, he broke off and sat watching her
quietly. To his eyes she seemed more charming than ever. There was a
defiant look in her eyes, and a half-smile trembled round the corners
of her mouth. He changed his seat for one nearer to hers, and leaning
forward eyed her gravely. Her colour deepened and she breathed quickly.

"Don't--don't you think Captain Trimblett is lucky?" she inquired, with
an attempt at audacity.

[Illustration: Don't you think Captain Trimblett is lucky 254]

Mr. Vyner pondered. "No," he said at last.

Miss Hartley caught her breath.

"How rude!" she said, after a pa