“I beg your pardon,” he replied, unsmilingly. “I should, of course, have warned you of my arrival. You must try to forgive my want of tact.”

“Giles, how absurd!” she said, holding out her hand.

He strolled forward, and took it, bowing formally, and just touching it with his lips. He released it immediately, saying: “Yes, in the manner of the farce we saw at Covent Garden, and thought so stupid. I shall stop short of searching behind the curtains and under the furniture for the hidden lover.”

The chilly salute he had bestowed on her hand had both alarmed and distressed her, but this speech fell so wide of the mark that she laughed. “In the expectation of finding your cousin Felix? It is a most improper notion, but how very funny it would be to discover him in such a situation!”

He smiled slightly, and some of the suspicion left his eyes. He still kept them on her face, and she found it hard to meet them. “What is it, Nell?” he asked, after a moment.

“But indeed it is nothing! I—I don’t understand what you can mean! Are you offended with me for having jumped so? But that was quite your own fault, you know!”

He did not answer for a moment, and when he did at last speak it was in a colourless voice. “As you say. Which of your many admirers bestowed that handsome bouquet on you? You have arranged it delightfully.”

“None of them! At least, I don’t flatter myself that he admires me precisely!” she replied, thankful for the change of subject. “I had it—but this is only a part of it!—from Tubbs, the nursery-man! I have been there today, to order the flowers for our dress-ball, and at parting he begged me to accept the most enormous bouquet imaginable!”

“Did he indeed? Then it seems safe to assume that you’ve lodged a very handsome order with him.”

She looked a little anxious. “Well, yes,” she admitted. “But it will be the prettiest ball of the season, and—and you did tell me I might spend as much as I wished on it!”

“Certainly. I wasn’t criticizing you, my love.” She felt impelled to justify herself, for in spite of this assurance there was an alarming want of cordiality in his voice. “It is the first ball we have held here—the first grand ball,” she reminded him apologetically. “You wouldn’t wish it to be talked of as just another jam—nothing out of the common style!”

“My dear Nell, you have no need to excuse yourself! By all means let it be of the first stare. Shall we give our guests pink champagne?”

“Are you joking me?” she asked cautiously. “It sounds excessively elegant, but I think I never heard of it before.”

“Oh, no, I’m not joking you! I assure you it will lend a great cachet to the party.”

“More than pink calico?” she ventured, a gleam of fun in the glance she cast at him.

That did draw a laugh from him. “Yes—or even pink silk! Where is Letty, by the by?”

“She has gone to visit Mrs. Thorne. She will be back directly, I daresay.” She fancied there was a frown in his eyes, and added: “You don’t like that, but indeed, Giles, it would not be right to encourage her to neglect Mrs. Thorne.”

“Very true. Tell me, Nell, what does my aunt Chudleigh mean by writing to inform me that Letty’s conduct at that masquerade you took her to set everyone in a bustle?”

“If your aunt Chudleigh would be a little less busy we should go on very well!” cried Nell, flushing with wrath. “She is never happy but when she is making mischief! Pray, has she any animadversions to pass on me?”

“No, she exonerates you from all the blame.”

“Obliging of her! I hope with all my heart that you will give her a sharp set-down, Cardross!”

“I probably shall. What, in fact, did Letty do to bring this scold down upon me?”

“Nothing at all! That is to say, nothing to make a piece of work about! You know how it is with her, when she is in high gig! She allows her vivacity to carry her beyond the line of what is pleasing, but she is so young that it is only people like Lady Chudleigh who don’t know that it is all done in innocence.”

“And want of upbringing,” he said, with a sigh. “I can blame no one but myself for that. You didn’t, in sober truth, let her wear an improper gown, did you?”

“No—oh, no!” she replied guiltily. “Not—not improper precisely! I own it was not just the thing for a girl of her age, but—well, she won’t wear it again, so pray don’t mention it to her, Cardross!”

“If it made her look like a class of female which my aunt prefers not to particularize, she most assuredly won’t wear it again!” he returned.

“Nothing of the sort! Lady Chudleigh knows very well that such gowns are worn by women of the first consequence. Do, pray, let the matter rest! To scold Letty will only set up her back—and it was my fault, after all.”

“I don’t mean to scold either of you, but I must own, Nell, that I could wish you had put your foot down,” he said, looking displeased.

“Perhaps I should have done so,” she replied, in a mortified tone. “I am very sorry!”

“Yes—well, never mind! I don’t doubt that it is very hard for you to check Letty’s starts. And while we are speaking of the masquerade, what, in heaven’s name, is this extraordinary story I have been hearing about Dysart’s holding you up on the road to Chiswick?”

“Oh, good God, Lady Chudleigh knows nothing of that, surely?” she exclaimed, rather aghast.

“No, I had it from your coachman. According to him, your carriage was stopped by Dysart and two companions, all of them disguised as highway men. It seems quite incredible, even in Dysart, but I can hardly suppose that Jeffrey would entertain me with a Canterbury story. Do you mind explaining the matter to me?”

She had forgotten that her servants would be very likely to tell him of Dysart’s strange exploit, and for an ignoble moment wished that she had had the forethought to have bought their silence. She was instantly ashamed of herself, and said, her colour rising: “Oh, it was one of Dy’s mad-brained hoaxes, and a great deal too bad of him! I must own that I hoped it wouldn’t come to your ears.”

“That, Nell, is patent!” he said.

“Yes—I mean, I knew you would be vexed! There was no harm in it—it all arose out of a—a stupid wager—but of course it was a most improper thing to do, and so I told him.”

“All arose out of a wager?” he repeated incredulously. “With which of his associates did Dysart see fit to make you the subject of a wager?”

“N-not with any of them!” she stammered, frightened by the look on his face.

“Then what the devil do you mean?” he demanded.

“It was with me!” she said, improvising desperately. “We—we were talking about masquerades, and I said it was nonsense to suppose that one wouldn’t recognize somebody one knew well just because they wore a mask. Dy—Dy said that he would prove me wrong, and—and that was how it was! Only I did recognize him, so I won the wager.”

“Gratifying! Did you also recognize his companions?”

“No—that is, it was only Mr. Fancot!” she said imploringly. “Oh, and Joe, of course—Dy’s groom! But he doesn’t signify, because he has always been with us, ever since I can remember! Pray, Cardross, don’t be vexed with Dy!”

“Vexed with him! I am very much more than vexed with him! To be giving you such a fright for the sake of a prank I should find it hard to pardon in a schoolboy goes beyond anything of which I believed him to be capable!” he said wrathfully.

“I wasn’t frightened!” she assured him. “Only a very little, at all events!”

“Oh?” he said grimly. “What, then, made you scream?”

Her eyes sparkled with indignation. “I did not scream! I would scorn to do anything so paltry! It was Letty who screamed.”

“How chicken-hearted of her, to be sure!” he said sardonically.

“Well, that’s what I thought,” she said candidly.

“Are you quite blinded by your doting fondness for Dysart?” he demanded. “He is fortunate to possess a sister who can find excuses for his every folly, his every extravagance, and for such larks as this latest exploit! I am aware—I have for long been aware!—that he holds a place in your affections that is second to none, but take care what you are about! Encourage him to think he may turn to you in any extremity! smile upon kick-ups unworthy of a freshman! You will not smile when the high spirits you now regard with such indulgence carry him beyond the line of what even his cronies will pardon!”

She shrank a little from the harshness in his voice, but she was quick to recognize the note of jealousy in it. She heard it with a leap of the heart, and it took from his words all power of wounding. Instead of flying to Dysart’s defense, she said merely: “Indeed I didn’t smile upon such a prank! It was very bad—quite unbecoming! But it is unjust in you, Cardross, to say that his wildness will lead him into doing anything wicked! You dislike him very much, but that is going too far!”

“No, I don’t dislike him,” he replied, in a more moderate tone. “On the contrary! I like him well enough to wish to be of real service to him. You think me unjust, but you may believe that I know what I am saying when I tell you that his present way of life is ruinous.”

She said, in swift alarm: “Oh, pray, pray don’t thrust him into the army!”

“I have no power to thrust him into the army. I own I have offered to buy him a commission, and I have not the smallest doubt that there is nothing I might do for him which he would like better, or which would be of more benefit to him. If the only bar in the way of his accepting it is your father’s dislike of the project I will engage to make all right in that quarter.”