d with some diffidence. "It
raises a point you wouldn't let me talk about at Peshawur, but I've
often felt guilty because I didn't insist. Travelling about as you
have done is expensive."

"Not to me," Blake rejoined with a twinkle. "I've turned adventurer
and I have the Blake gift of getting along without money." He added in
an explanatory aside to Blanche: "For two or three generations we kept
open house, and a full stable in Ireland, on a revenue derived from
rents which were rarely paid, and if I hadn't been too young when a
disaster gave the creditors their chance, I'd have given them a
sporting run."

"But what did you do when you left England?" Bertram broke in.

"Went to East Africa; after that to this country where I tried my hand
at prairie farming. Found it decidedly monotonous and sold the
homestead at a profit. Then I did some prospecting, and now I'm here
on business."

"On business!" Bertram exclaimed. "You could never be trusted to get
proper value for a shilling."

"I've learned to do so lately, and that's not going far. If you're in
commerce in this country, you must know how to put down fifty cents and
take up a dollar's worth. Anyhow, I'm here to meet an American whose
acquaintance I made farther West. He's a traveller in paints and
varnishes and a very enterprising person as well as an unusually good
sort. But I've told you enough about myself; I want your news."

Blanche, who had been watching him, thought it cost her husband an
effort to fall in with his cousin's casual mood. Blake, however,
seemed quite at ease, and she was growing interested in him. He
reminded her of the Challoner portraits in the dark oak gallery at
Sandymere, but she thought him lighter, more brilliant, and, in a
sense, more human than those stern soldiers. Then she remembered his
Irish father, which explained something. They talked a while about
English friends and relatives; and then Blake said rather abruptly--

"And the Colonel?"

"Well," said Bertram. "I heard that you saw him, Dick."

"I did, for half an hour. I felt it was my duty, though the interview
was hard on both. He was fair, as he always was, and tried to hide his
feelings. I couldn't blame him because he failed."

Bertram looked away, and Blake's face was troubled. There was a hint
of emotion in his voice as he went on, turning to Blanche--

"Whatever he may think of me, Colonel Challoner is a man I have a
sincere respect for,