pected
of ye, St. John."

He smiled a little. Then, seeing the unspoken question in Kitty's eyes,
he turned to her reassuringly.

"No need to worry, Madame Kitty. Remember, I'm always there, if need be,
with the money-bags. My idea is that if Nan doesn't like entire
dependence on her husband, it may spur her into working at her music.
I'm always waiting for her to do something big. And the desire for
independence is a different spur--and a better one---than the necessity
of boiling the pot for dinner."

"You seem to have forgotten that being a professional musician is next
door to a crime in Lady Gertrude's eyes," observed Kitty. "She doesn't
care for anyone to do more than 'play a little' in a nice, amateur,
lady-like fashion!"

"Then Lady Gertrude will have to learn better," replied St. John sharply.
Adding, with a grim smile: "One of my wedding-presents to Nan will be a
full-sized grand piano."

So, in accordance with Eliza's advice, everyone refrained from "playing
providence" and Nan's engagement to Roger Trenby progressed along
conventional lines. Letters of congratulation poured in upon them both,
and Kitty grew unmistakably bored by the number of her friends in the
neighbourhood who, impelled by curiosity concerning the future mistress
of Trenby Hall, suddenly discovered that they owed a call at Mallow and
that the present moment was an opportune time to pay it.

Nan herself was keyed up to a rather high pitch these days, and it was
difficult for those who were watching her with the anxious eyes of
friendship to gauge the extent of her happiness or otherwise. From the
moment of Mallory's departure she had flung herself with zest into each
day's amusement behaving precisely as though she hadn't a care in
life--playing about with Sandy, and flirting so exasperatingly with Roger
that, although she wore his ring, within himself he never felt quite sure
of her.

Kitty used every endeavour to get the girl to herself for half an hour,
hoping she might be able to extract the truth from her. But Nan had
developed an extraordinary elusiveness and she skilfully avoided
tete-a-tete talks with anyone other than Roger. Moreover, there was that
in her manner which utterly forbade even the delicate probing of a
friend. The Nan who was wont to be so frank and ingenuous--surprisingly
so at times--seemed all at once to have retired behind an impenetrable
wall of reticence.

Meanwhile Fenton and Penelope had mu