His daughter came to sing at a concert I organised, and it was after this concert that he so overwhelmed me with flattery that I looked at him in amazement. I said to myself: “You are a humbug.” But on looking at him again, I said: “No; you’re not a humbug: you’re a fool.” A third scrutiny, however, left me in doubt, and I said: “I’m damned if I know what you are.” Certainly I never 161suspected he was first cousin to a spy, that he was paid handsomely by his Government for his propaganda work in Manchester, and that he secretly despised and hated us.


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George Gaunt came to the Palazzo next day. He came in the afternoon with his father, to be introduced to Waring; and he came again after dinner—for these neighbours did not entertain each other at the working-day meals, so to speak, but only in light ornamental ways, with cups of tea or black coffee—with both his parents to spend the evening. He was thin and of a slightly greenish tinge in his brownness, by reason of India and the illnesses he had gone through; but his slim figure had a look of power; and he had kind eyes, like his mother’s, under the hollows of his brows: not a handsome young man, yet not at all common or ordinary, with a soldier’s neatness and upright bearing. To see Markham beside him with his insignificant figure, his little round head tufted with sandy hair, his one-sided look with his glass in his eye, or his ear tilted up on the opposite side, was as good as a sermon upon race and its advantages. For Markham was the fifteenth lord; and the Gaunts were, it was understood, of as good as no family{v1-306} at all. Captain George from that first evening had neither ear nor eye for any one but Constance. He followed her about shyly wherever she moved; he stood over her when she sat down. He said little, for he was shy, poor fellow; yet he did sometimes hazard a remark, which was always subsidiary or responsive to something she had said.

Third Heat.

"Never give in to the fool, lest he say, 'He fears me,'" Retief said.

And a second voice answered—

He realized she was breathing the air of the room they were in.

Then this morning, just as she thought she had nerved herself up to the point, he had suddenly asked her to write to Guy Greaves.

"Oh, do not trouble yourself. If you are anxious for fighting, you have a sword by your side, and so have I. Why lose any time? Out with you at once, and I will give you all the fighting you can stomach between this and doomsday," and I made as if I would rise.

They lapsed into self-centred meditations....

"Oh! there can't be the least question of involving any one but our two selves," Arthur assured him.

“I don’t know that either; nearly twenty years, I should say. The kids are growing up. The boys are both at Gro

“Is Mr. Wolley here?” ses he bloontly.

1."Are, I fear, very strong! However, something might yet be done if he were to do a little house-to-house canvassing in his old bright spirits. But in any case, Mrs. Creswell, he must stick to his guns, and we look to you to keep him there!"



“‘Come on home an’ fetch yo’ preacher. Can’t afford to lose the filly, an’ the gal has been off her feed ever since you left.





ing I made no answer, probably thought it pained me to be thus convicted of heartlessness, for she added, as if softening the rebuke: “Two of your father’s cousins did fight: his cousins Harold and James. They were young men, with no family obligations. And poor Jamie was killed, you remember.”


On taking leave of Mr. Maitland he said, in French, "I suppose you know, Mr. McDonell, to whom you are indebted for this? To Allan McDonald Knock."

. . .