he
Robin Hill Gate, where presently the silver roan would come demurely
sidling with its slim and dark-haired rider, and in the glades bare of
leaves they would go off side by side, not talking very much, riding
races sometimes, and sometimes holding hands. More than once of an
evening, in a moment of expansion, he had been tempted to tell his
mother how this shy sweet cousin had stolen in upon him and wrecked his
'life.' But bitter experience, that all persons above thirty-five were
spoil-sports, prevented him. After all, he supposed he would have to
go through with College, and she would have to 'come out,' before they
could be married; so why complicate things, so long as he could see her?
Sisters were teasing and unsympathetic beings, a brother worse, so there
was no one to confide in. Ah! And this beastly divorce business! What a
misfortune to have a name which other people hadn't! If only he had
been called Gordon or Scott or Howard or something fairly common! But
Dartie--there wasn't another in the directory! One might as well have
been named Morkin for all the covert it afforded! So matters went on,
till one day in the middle of January the silver-roan palfrey and its
rider were missing at the tryst. Lingering in the cold, he debated
whether he should ride on to the house: But Jolly might be there, and
the memory of their dark encounter was still fresh within him. One could
not be always fighting with her brother! So he returned dismally to town
and spent an evening plunged in gloom. At breakfast next day he noticed
that his mother had on an unfamiliar dress and was wearing her hat.
The dress was black with a glimpse of peacock blue, the hat black and
large--she looked exceptionally well. But when after breakfast she said
to him, "Come in here, Val," and led the way to the drawing-room, he was
at once beset by qualms. Winifred carefully shut the door and passed her
handkerchief over her lips; inhaling the violette de Parme with which it
had been soaked, Val thought: 'Has she found out about Holly?'

Her voice interrupted

"Are you going to be nice to me, dear boy?"

Val grinned doubtfully.

"Will you come with me this morning...."

"I've got to see...." began Val, but something in her face stopped him.
"I say," he said, "you don't mean...."

"Yes, I have to go to the Court this morning." Already!--that d---d
business which he had almost succeeded in forgetting, since nobody ever
mentioned it. In self-comm