same!'

He turned again on to his face. And a small dog who had lost its master
sniffed at his boots, and sat down a little way off, to wait till
Gregory could do something for him, because he smelled that he was that
sort of man.

CHAPTER VII

DOUBTFUL POSITION AT WORSTED SKEYNES

Then George's answer came at last, the flags were in full bloom round
the Scotch garden at Worsted Skeynes. They grew in masses and of
all shades, from deep purple to pale grey, and their scent, very
penetrating, very delicate, floated on the wind.

While waiting for that answer, it had become Mr. Pendyce's habit to
promenade between these beds, his hand to his back, for he was still a
little stiff, followed at a distance of seven paces by the spaniel John,
very black, and moving his rubbery nostrils uneasily from side to side.

In this way the two passed every day the hour from twelve to one.
Neither could have said why they walked thus, for Mr. Pendyce had a
horror of idleness, and the spaniel John disliked the scent of irises;
both, in fact, obeyed that part of themselves which is superior to
reason. During this hour, too, Mrs. Pendyce, though longing to walk
between her flowers, also obeyed that part of her, superior to reason,
which told her that it would be better not.

But George's answer came at last.

"STOICS' CLUB.

"DEAR FATHER,

"Yes, Bellew is bringing a suit. I am taking steps in the matter. As to
the promise you ask for, I can give no promise of the sort. You may tell
Bellew I will see him d---d first.

"Your affectionate son,

"GEORGE PENDYCE."

Mr. Pendyce received this at the breakfast-table, and while he read it
there was a hush, for all had seen the handwriting on the envelope.

Mr. Pendyce read it through twice, once with his glasses on and once
without, and when he had finished the second reading he placed it in his
breast pocket. No word escaped him; his eyes, which had sunk a little
the last few days, rested angrily on his wife's white face. Bee and
Norah looked down, and, as if they understood, the four dogs were still.
Mr. Pendyce pushed his plate back, rose, and left the room.

Norah looked up.

"What's the matter, Mother?"

Mrs. Pendyce was swaying. She recovered herself in a moment.

"Nothing, dear. It's very hot this morning, don't you think? I'll Just
go to my room and take some sal volatile."

She went out, followed by old Roy, the Skye; the spaniel John, who had
been cut of