Do I not find favour in his eyes? . . . Surely the last four
weeks have shown you that much?"

Kitty made a small grimace.

"They certainly have. But seriously, this is all nonsense, Nan. You
and Roger Trenby are about as unsuited to each other as any man and
woman could possibly be. In addition to which he has the temper of a
fiend when roused--and you'd be sure to rouse him! You know a dozen
men more suitable!"

"Do I? It seems to me I'm particularly destitute of men friends just
now, either 'suitable' or otherwise. They've been giving me the cold
shoulder lately with commendable frequency. So why not the M.F.H. and
his acres?"

Kitty detected the bitter, hurt note in her voice, and privately
congratulated herself on a letter she had posted only the previous
evening telling Peter that everything was obviously over between Nan
and Maryon Rooke, as the latter had failed to put in an appearance at
St. Wennys--and would he come down to Mallow Court? With Peter once
more at hand, she felt sure he would be able to charm Nan's bitterness
away and even prevent her, in some magical way of his own, from
committing such a rash blunder as marriage with Trenby could not fail
to be.

She had been feeling rather disturbed about Nan ever since they had
come to Mallow. The Nan she knew, wayward, tantalising, yet always
lovable, seemed to have disappeared, and instead here was this
embittered, moody Nan, very surely filled with some wild notion of
defying fate by marrying out of hand and so settling for ever the
disappointments of the past--and whatever chances of happiness there
might be waiting for her in the lap of destiny. Settling them in
favour of one most final and lasting disappointment of them all--of
that Kitty felt convinced.

"Nan, don't be a fool!" she insisted vehemently. "You'd be wretched if
you married the wrong man--far, far more wretched in the future than
you've ever been in the past. You'd only repent that last step once,
and that would be--always!"

"My dear Kit, I've taken so many steps that I've repented! But when
you're in the middle of a staircase you must inevitably continue taking
steps--either up or down. And if I take this one, and repent it--well,
at all events it will be the last step."

"Not necessarily," replied Kitty drily.

"Where are you wandering now?" gibed Nan. "Into the Divorce Courts--or
the Thames? Surely you know me better than that! I value my creature
comfor