the man to whom you would care to entrust
yourself?" he asked.

She took fire at this. It was an act of presumption not to be borne.

"Even if I had," she said, with burning cheeks, "I do not think I should
make Lord Ronald Prior my confidant."

"No?" he said. "Yet you might do worse."

Her eyes shot scorn.

"Can a man be worse than inept?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered. "Since you ask me, I think he can--a good deal
worse."

"I detest colourless people!" she broke in vehemently.

He smiled.

"In fact, you prefer black sheep to grey sheep. A good many women do.
But it doesn't follow that the preference is a wise one."

The colour faded suddenly from her face. Did he know how ghastly a
failure her first marriage had been? Most people knew. Could it be to
this that he was referring? The bare suspicion made her wince.

"That," she said icily, "is no one's affair but my own. I am not wholly
ignorant of the ways of the world. And I know whom I can trust."

"You trust me, for instance?" said Lord Ronald.

She looked him up and down witheringly.

"I should say you are quite the most harmless man I know."

"And you don't like me in consequence," he drawled, meeting the look
with eyes so intent that, half-startled, she lowered her own.

She turned away from him with an impatient gesture. He had never managed
to embarrass her before.

"I should like you better if you weren't so officious," she said.

"But you have no one else to look after you," objected Lord Ronald.

"Well, in any case, it isn't your business," she threw back, almost
inclined to laugh at his audacity.

"It would be if you married me," he pointed out, as patiently as if he
were dealing with a fractious child.

"If I----"

She wheeled abruptly, amazed out of her disdain. It was the most prosaic
proposal she had ever had.

"If you married me," he repeated, keeping his eyes upon her. "You admit
that I am harmless, so you would have nothing to fear from me. And as a
watch-dog, I think you would find me useful--and quite easy to manage,"
he added, with his serene smile.

Beryl was staring at him in wide astonishment. Was the man mad to
approach her thus?

"No," he said. "I am quite sane; eccentric perhaps, but--as you are kind
enough to observe--quite harmless. I never proposed to any woman before
in my life, or so much as wanted to, so that must be my excuse for doing
it badly. Really, you know, Mrs. Denvers, you might do worse than