eeds has come back. I can't tell you _how_ I
know--you'll have to trust me over that--but I do know that Maryon
Rooke has come back to her and that he is the man who means everything
to her."

Kitty's brows drew together as she pondered the question whether Peter
were right or wrong in his opinion.

"I don't think you're right," she said at last in tones of conviction.
"I don't believe she 'needs' him at all. I dare-say he still
fascinates her. He has"--she hesitated--"a curious sort of fascination
for some women. And the sooner Nan is cured of it the better."

"I've done--all that I could," he answered briefly.

"Don't I know that?" Kitty slipped her arm into his. "You've been
splendid! That's just why I want you to come down to us in Cornwall."

"But if Rooke is there--"

"Maryon?" She paused, then went on with a chilly little note of
haughtiness in her voice. "I certainly don't propose to invite Maryon
Rooke to Mallow."

"Still, you can't prevent him from taking a summer holiday at St.
Wennys."

St. Wennys was a small fishing village on the Cornish coast, barely a
mile away from Mallow Court.

"He won't come--I'm sure!" asserted Kitty. "Sir Robert Burnham lives
quite near there--he's Maryon's godfather--and they hate each other
like poison."

"Why?"

"Oh, old Sir Robert was Maryon's guardian till he came of age, and
then, when Maryon decided to go in for painting, he presented him with
the small patrimony to which he was entitled and declined to have
anything further to do with him--either financially or otherwise.
Simply chucked him. Maryon went through some very bad times, I
believe, in his early days," continued Kitty, striving to be just.
"That's the one thing I respect him for. He stuck to it and won
through to where he stands now."

"It shows he's got some grit, anyway," agreed Peter. "And do you
think"--smiling--"that that's the type of man who's going to give in
over winning the woman he wants? . . . Should I, if things were
different--if I were free?"

Kitty laughed reluctantly.

"You? No. But you're not Maryon Rooke. He could never be the kind of
lover you would be, my Peter. With him, his art counts first of
anything in the wide world. And that's why I don't think he'll come to
St. Wennys. He's in love with Nan--as far as his type can be in
love--but he's not going to tie himself up with her. So he'll keep
away."

She paused, then went on urgently:

"Peter dear,