roved no easy task.

Cleek gave one look at the expensively cut article of footgear, then he
lounged across the yard.

"That's a pretty tough job, isn't it?" said he offhandedly. The groom
looked up, but meeting the visitor's disarming smile, only gave vent to
a grunt.

"Should think it is a tough job," he muttered. "They're his lordship's
boots, an' 'ow 'e comes to make 'em in such a state beats me to fits.
Fair caked with mud, and 'im in bed with a sprained ankle. It's that
valet of 'is, I s'pose----" He broke off, then looked questioningly at
Cleek.

"I've lost my way," he said, plunging his hand into his pocket. "I
strolled down a path from the lawns in front of the house. Which one
will take me back?"

"First path to the right, sir, and thank you," said the gratified groom,
and a minute later found Cleek back at the spot where Ailsa had left
him.

He certainly had to admit that the whole affair was most perplexing, and
he was still pondering over the various points of the case when Ailsa
Lorne returned, and for a few moments they paced the lawn in silence;
then Cleek turned with a little smile.

"I suppose we shall have to go and meet the General," said he serenely.
"Shall we meet Lady Katharine's father as well?"

"Oh, dear, no! The man's in bed with a sprained ankle. Can't put his
foot to the ground."

"Oh! Indeed? Then that explains it, of course. I wondered."

"Explains it? Explains what?"

"Why, his not being about at such a time--not appearing to take any
interest in his daughter's affairs, especially her deliverance from a
loveless marriage. It struck me as curious when I saw her. But I set it
down to the possibility of there being bad blood between them. Is
there?"

"No, there is not," said Ailsa, falling unconsciously into the trap.
"Kathie is not the kind of girl to hold a grudge against any one, Mr.
Cleek. She is intensely emotional, but she is also intensely loyal. The
very last person in the world she would be likely to treat spitefully
would be her father."

"I see. She is fond of him, then? Probably I have heard the wrong
version of the story. Have I? I was told that it was he who compelled
her, very much against her will, to accept the attentions of
the--er--Count de Louvisan and to become engaged to him. That she begged
her father to save her from marrying the man, but he would not--or could
not--consent."

"That is quite true. You have not been misinformed. She did just what
y