condition in her letter?"
he asked.

"Er--no--not exactly----"

"I thought not--she probably suggested all sorts of joys with you when
she is free!"

There was an ominous silence.

Mr. Fordyce's voice now took on that crisp tone which his adversaries in
the House of Commons so well knew meant that they must look to their
guns.

"Delightful woman! A spider, I tell you, a roaring hypocrite, too,
bamboozling poor Rose into thinking her a virtuous, persecuted little
darling, with a noble passion for you, and my sister is a downright
person not easily fooled. At this moment, Violet is probably shedding
tears on her shoulder over poor Maurice, while she is plotting how soon
she can become mistress of Arranstoun. Good God! when I think of it--I
would rather get in a girl from the village and go through the ceremony
with her, and make myself safe, than have the prospect of Violet
Hatfield as a wife. Michael, I tell you seriously, dear boy--you won't
have the ghost of a chance if you are still unmarried when poor Maurice
dies!"

Michael bounded from his chair once more. He was perfectly
furious--furious with the situation--furious with the woman--furious
with himself.

"Confound it, Henry, I--know it--but it does not mend matters your
ranting there--and I am so sorry for the poor chap--Maurice, I mean--a
very decent fellow, poor Maurice! Can't you suggest any way out?"

Mr. Fordyce mused a moment, while he deliberately puffed smoke,
Michael's impatience increasing so that he ran his hands through his
dark, smooth hair, whose shiny, immaculate brushing was usually his
pride!

"Can't you suggest a way out?" he reiterated.

Mr. Fordyce did not reply--then after a moment: "You were always too
much occupied with women, Michael--from your first scrape when you left
Eton; and over this affair you have been a complete fool."

Michael was heard to swear again.

"You have been inconsistent, too, because you did not even employ your
usual ruthless methods of doing what you pleased with them. You have
simply drifted into allowing this vile creature's cobwebs to cling on to
your whole existence until you are almost paralyzed, and it seems to me
that an immediate marriage with someone else is your only way of escape.
Such a waste of your life! Just analyze the position. You have
everything in the world, this glorious place--an old
name--money--prestige--and if your inclinations do run to the material
side of things instead o