of mine, which is that my name is not
mentioned in connection with it. I do not wish Cossey and Son to know
that I have taken up this investment on my own account. In fact, so
necessary to me is it that my name should not be mentioned, that if it
does transpire before the affair is completed I shall withdraw my
offer, and if it transpires afterwards I shall call the money in. The
loan will be advanced by a client of Mr. Quest's. Is that understood
between us?"

"Hum," said the Squire, "I don't quite like this secrecy about these
matters of business, but still if you make a point of it, why of
course I cannot object."

"Very good. Then I presume that you will write officially to Cossey
and Son stating that the money will be forthcoming to meet their
various charges and the overdue interest. And now I think that we have
had about enough of this business for once, so with your permission I
will pay my respects to Miss de la Molle before I go."

"Dear me," said the Squire, pressing his hand to his head, "you do
hurry me so dreadfully--I really don't know where I am. Miss de la
Molle is out; I saw her go out sketching myself. Sit down and we will
talk this business over a little more."

"No, thank you, Mr. de la Molle, I have to talk about money every day
of my life and I soon have enough of the subject. Quest will arrange
all the details. Good-bye, don't bother to ring, I will find my
horse." And with a shake of the hand he was gone.

"Ah!" said the old gentleman to himself when his visitor had departed,
"he asked for Ida, so I suppose that is what he is after. But it is a
queer sort of way to begin courting, and if she finds it out I should
think that it would go against him. Ida is not the sort of woman to be
won by a money consideration. Well, she can very well look after
herself, that's certain. Anyway it has been a good morning's work, but
somehow I don't like that young man any the better for it. I have it--
there's something wanting. He is not quite a gentleman. Well, I must
find that fellow George," and he rushed to the front door and roared
for "George," till the whole place echoed and the pheasants crowed in
the woods.

After a while there came faint answering yells of "Coming, Squire,
coming," and in due course George's long form became visible, striding
swiftly up the garden.

"Well!" said his master, who was in high good humour, "did you find
your man?"

"Well no, Squire--that is, I had a rare hunt