h hovering
in the background, but he wished that she would leave him alone. By
and by their hostess took Mrs. Keith away, but then Millicent, whom he
suspected had been told to do so, came up and spoke to him. It looked
as if he were to be saved from his persecutor, even against his will,
for he was anxious to meet her and get the unpleasant business over,
but he liked Millicent and courtesy demanded that he should listen.
Presently she rather hesitatingly mentioned his nephew.

"Have you heard anything from Mr. Blake since he left Montreal?"

"Nothing," said Challoner with a trace of grimness. "He does not
correspond with me."

"Then I suppose you don't know where he is?"

"I took some trouble to find out, but nothing came of it. I merely
learned that he had left a small settlement on the Western prairie and
started for the North." He gave her a sharp glance. "Are you
interested in my nephew?"

"Yes," she said frankly. "I don't know him very well, but on two
occasions he came to my assistance when I needed it. He was very
tactful and considerate."

"Then he's fortunate in gaining your good opinion. No doubt, you know
something about his history?"

"I daresay my good opinion is not worth much, but I feel that he
deserves it, in spite of what I've been told about him," she answered
with a blush. "It is very sad that he should have to give up all he
valued, and I thought there was something gallant in his cheerfulness;
he was always ready with a jest."

"Have you met his companion? I understand that he is not a man of my
nephew's stamp."

Millicent smiled. "Hardly so, from your point of view."

"Does that mean that yours is not the same as mine?"

"I have had to earn my living, which changes one's outlook; perhaps I'd
better not say enlarges it. However, you shall judge. Mr. Harding is
a traveller for an American paint factory and had to begin work at an
age when your nephew was at Eton, but I think him a very fine type.
He's serious, courteous, and sanguine, and seems to have a strong
confidence in his partner."

"Ah!" said Challoner; "that is not so strange. The Blakes have a way
of inspiring trust and liking. It's a gift of theirs."

"Your nephew undoubtedly has it. He uses it unconsciously, but I think
that those who trust him are not deceived."

Challoner regarded her with a curious expression. "After all," he
said, "that may be true."

Then Greythorpe came up in search of Millic