he child's future.
Probably it was that very idea which had set the cousin so readily in
motion. Men had come before out of commercial crashes with estates in
the country and a comfortable income, if not for themselves then for
their wives. And if a wife could be made comfortable by a little
dexterous management then why not a daughter? Yes. This possibility
might have been discussed in the person's household and judged worth
acting upon.

The man actually hinted broadly that such was his belief and in face of
Fyne's guarded replies gave him to understand that he was not the dupe of
such reticences. Obviously he looked upon the Fynes as being
disappointed because the girl was taken away from them. They, by a
diplomatic sacrifice in the interests of poor Flora, had asked the man to
dinner. He accepted ungraciously, remarking that he was not used to late
hours. He had generally a bit of supper about half-past eight or nine.
However . . .

He gazed contemptuously round the prettily decorated dining-room. He
wrinkled his nose in a puzzled way at the dishes offered to him by the
waiter but refused none, devouring the food with a great appetite and
drinking ("swilling" Fyne called it) gallons of ginger beer, which was
procured for him (in stone bottles) at his request. The difficulty of
keeping up a conversation with that being exhausted Mrs. Fyne herself,
who had come to the table armed with adamantine resolution. The only
memorable thing he said was when, in a pause of gorging himself "with
these French dishes" he deliberately let his eyes roam over the little
tables occupied by parties of diners, and remarked that his wife did for
a moment think of coming down with him, but that he was glad she didn't
do so. "She wouldn't have been at all happy seeing all this alcohol
about. Not at all happy," he declared weightily.

"You must have had a charming evening," I said to Fyne, "if I may judge
from the way you have kept the memory green."

"Delightful," he growled with, positively, a flash of anger at the
recollection, but lapsed back into his solemnity at once. After we had
been silent for a while I asked whether the man took away the girl next
day.

Fyne said that he did; in the afternoon, in a fly, with a few clothes the
maid had got together and brought across from the big house. He only saw
Flora again ten minutes before they left for the railway station, in the
Fynes' sitting-room at the hotel. It was