ons of severe decision almost worthy of
a Field-Marshal, and helpless bewilderment that suggested a startled
puppy. He was certainly growing in vigor and beginning to mean a good
deal more than he had meant at first. Dion was more deeply interested
in him now, and sometimes felt as if Robin returned the interest,
was beginning to be able to assemble and concentrate his faculties at
certain moments. Certainly Robin already played an active part in the
lives of his parents. Dion realized that when, on the following Monday,
he returned to town without having settled anything with regard to Mrs.
Clarke. Somehow Robin had always intervened when Dion had drawn near to
the subject of the projected acquaintance between the woman who kept the
door of her life and the woman who, innocently, followed the flitting
light of desire. There were the evenings, of course, but somehow they
were not propitious for a discussion of social values. Although Robin
retired early, he was apt to pervade the conversation. And then Rosamund
went away at intervals to have a look at him, and Dion filled up
the time by smoking a cigar on the cliff edge. The clock struck
ten-thirty--bedtime at Westgate--before one had at all realized how late
it was getting; and it was out of the question to bother about things
on the edge of sleep. That would have made for insomnia. The question
of Mrs. Clarke could easily wait till the autumn, when Rosamund would
be back in town. It was impossible for the two women to know each other
when the one was at Claridge's and the other at Westgate. Things would
arrange themselves naturally in the autumn. Dion never said to himself
that Rosamund did not intend to know Mrs. Clarke, but he did say to
himself that Mrs. Clarke intended to know Rosamund.

He wondered a little about that. Why should Mrs. Clarke be so apparently
keen on making the acquaintance of Rosamund? Of course, Rosamund was
delightful, and was known to be delightful. But Mrs. Clarke must know
heaps of attractive people. It really was rather odd. He decidedly
wished that Mrs. Clarke hadn't happened to get the idea into her head,
for he didn't care to press Rosamund on the subject. The week passed,
and another visit to Westgate, and he had not been to Claridge's. In the
second week another note came to him from Mrs. Clarke.

"CLARIDGE'S, ETC.

"DEAR Mr. LEITH,--I'm enchanted with Jenkins. He's a trouvaille. My
boy goes every day to the 'gym,' as he calls it,