I do think it possible that one of
them may ask you questions concerning certain investments in which I am
interested. I rely upon you to give them no information."

"I know very little about your investments--outside the mine,"
Aynesworth answered. "They couldn't very well approach a more ignorant
person. Are you going to help Barrington to make a fortune?"

Wingrave turned his head. There was a slight contraction of the
forehead, an ominous glitter in his steel grey eyes.

"I think," he said, "you know that I am not likely to do that."

The two men did not meet again till late in the evening. Lady Ruth's
rooms were crowded for it was the beginning of the political season, and
her parties were always popular. Nevertheless, she found time to beckon
Wingrave to her before they had been in the room many minutes.

"I want to talk to you," she said a little abruptly. "You might have
come this afternoon as you promised."

Lady Ruth was a wonderful woman. A well-known statesman had just asked a
friend her age.

"I don't know," was the answer, "but whatever it is, she doesn't look
it."

Tonight she was almost girlish. Her complexion was delicate and
perfectly natural, the graceful lines of her figure suggested more the
immaturity of youth than any undue slimness. She wore a wonderful collar
of pearls around her long, shapely neck, but very little other jewelry.
The touch of her fingers upon Wingrave's coat sleeve was a carefully
calculated thing. If he had thought of it, he could have felt the slight
appealing pressure with which she led him towards one of the smaller
rooms.

"There are two chairs there," she said. "Come and sit down. I have
something to say to you."

THE SHADOW OF A FEAR

For several minutes Lady Ruth said nothing. She was leaning back in
the farthest corner of her chair, her head resting slightly upon her
fingers, her eyes studying with a curious intentness the outline of
Wingrave's pale, hard face. He himself, either unconscious of, or
indifferent to her close scrutiny, had simply the air of a man possessed
of an inexhaustible fund of patience.

"Wingrave," she said quietly, "I think that the time has gone by when I
was afraid of you."

He turned slightly towards her, but he did not speak.

"I am possessed," she continued, "at present, of a more womanly
sentiment. I am curious."

"Ah!" he murmured, "you were always a little inclined that way."

"I am curious about you," she contin