ear," with a glance at the yellow-back in his hand, "I am
interrupting a studious hour, but--"

"Not in the least, I assure you," said Charles, shutting his novel.
"What is regarded as study by the feminine intellect is to the masculine
merely relaxation. I was 'unbending over a book,' that was all."

The process of "unbending" was being performed in the summer-house,
whither he had retired after Evelyn and Ralph had started on their
afternoon's ride to Vandon, in which he had refused to join.

"I thought I should find you here," continued Ruth, frankly. "I have
been wishing to speak to you for several days, but you are as a rule so
surrounded and encompassed on every side by Molly that I have not had an
opportunity."

It had occurred to Charles once or twice during the last few days that
Molly was occasionally rather in the way. Now he was sure of it. As Ruth
appeared to hesitate, he pulled forward a rustic contorted chair for
her.

"No, thanks," she said. "I shall not long interrupt the unbending
process. I only came to ask--"

"To ask!" repeated Charles, who had got up as she was standing, and came
and stood near her.

"You remember the first evening you were here?"

"I do."

"And what we spoke of at dinner?"

"Perfectly."

"I came to ask you how much you lent Raymond?" Ruth's clear, earnest
eyes were fixed full upon him.

At this moment Charles perceived Lady Mary at a little distance,
propelling herself gently over the grass in the direction of the
summer-house. In another second she had perceived Charles and Ruth, and
had turned precipitately, and hobbled away round the corner with
surprising agility.

"Confound her!" inwardly ejaculated Charles.

"I wish to know how much you lent him," said Ruth again, as he did not
answer, happily unconscious of what had been going on behind her back.

"Only what I was well able to afford."

"And has he paid it back since?"

"I am sure he understood I should not expect him to pay it back at
once."

"But he has had it three years."

Charles did not answer.

"I feel sure he is not able to pay it. Will you kindly tell me how much
it was?"

"No, Miss Deyncourt; I think not."

"Why not?"

"Because--excuse me, but I perceive that if I do you will instantly wish
to pay it."

"I do wish to pay it."

"I thought so."

There was a short silence.

"I still wish it," said Ruth at last.

Charles was silent. Her pertinacity annoyed and yet piqued him. B