hting a
cigar.

CHAPTER XXXI

A DIFFICULT QUESTION

On the evening after Mrs. Chudleigh's visit, Challoner sent for Blake,
who had just returned from an afternoon's shooting with Foster. The
Colonel was sitting in a big leather chair near a good fire, but he had
a heavy rug wrapped about him.

"Had you good sport?" he asked. "You must have found it very cold
standing about the covers."

"We made a fair bag. The air was raw, but nothing unusual."

"I can't keep warm; I've been shivering all day. It looks as if I'd
got a chill waiting outside Croxleigh gorse, but that is not what I
want to talk about." His tone grew sharper. "It's curious that I
wasn't told Mrs. Chudleigh came here yesterday; had you anything to do
with keeping the information from me?"

"I'm afraid I must own up, sir. I thought it might disturb you, if you
knew."

"Your intentions were, no doubt, good, but please remember in future
that I can't permit things that concern me to be taken out of my hands.
I believe I'm still capable of managing my affairs."

It struck Blake that his uncle looked ill, which might account for his
asperity, and he made an apologetic answer.

"You may as well tell me what she said," Challoner resumed.

"As a matter of fact, she didn't say very much," Blake answered with a
twinkle. "I did most of the talking, but you must guess her object;
she seems a persistent lady."

"Then what did you say?"

"I tried to show her that she was helpless to make any trouble so long
as I stuck to my guns, and I think she recognized it. Anyhow, Foster
mentioned that she told his wife this morning she was afraid she
couldn't stay as long as she had expected. I suppose this means she's
ready to leave the field as soon as she can do so without exciting
curiosity."

Challoner looked much relieved, but when Blake left him he grew
thoughtful. His nephew's demonstration with the chessmen had lifted a
weight off his mind, but he was troubled by a doubt about the absolute
correctness of his explanation. Moreover, when he dwelt upon it, the
doubt gathered strength, but there was nothing that he could do; Dick
obviously meant to stick to his story, and Bertram could not be
questioned. Another matter troubled him; Dick, whom he had meant to
provide for, would not allow it, and though Challoner admired his
independence he thought Dick was carrying it too far.

In the meanwhile, Blake sought Miss Challoner and said, "I do