ed her head; she was laughing still, with tears in her eyes.

Mina looked at her. Considerations of propriety fell into the
background.

"But what's it all about?" she cried.

"I'll leave Cecily to tell you." He was quiet now, but with a vicious
quietness. "I've been explaining that I have a preference for being left
alone. Perhaps it may not be superfluous to mention the fact to you too,
Madame Zabriska. My cab's waiting. Good-night." He looked a moment at
Cecily, and his eyes seemed to dwell a little longer than he had meant.
In a tone rather softer and more gentle he repeated, "Good-night."

Cecily sprang to her feet. "I shall remember!" she cried. "I shall
remember! If ever--if ever the time comes, I shall remember!" Her voice
was full of bitterness, her manner proudly defiant.

Harry hesitated a moment, then smiled grimly. "I shouldn't be able to
complain of that," he said, as he turned and went out to his cab.

Cecily threw herself into her chair again. The bewildered Imp stood
staring at her.

"I didn't know where you were," Mina complained.

"Oh, it doesn't matter."

"Fancy being here with him at this time of night!"

Cecily gave no signs of hearing this superficial criticism on her
conduct.

"You must tell me what it's all about," Mina insisted.

Cecily raised her eyes with a weary air, as though she spoke of a
distasteful subject unwillingly and to no good purpose.

"I went to tell him he could get Blent back by marrying me."

"Cecily!" Many emotions were packed into the cry. "What did he say?"

Cecily seemed to consider for a moment, then she answered slowly:

"Well, he very nearly beat me--and I rather wish he had," she said.

The net result of the day had distinctly not been to further certain
schemes. All that had been achieved--and both of them had contributed to
it--was an admirable example of the Tristram way.

XXI

THE PERSISTENCE OF BLENT

Harry Tristram awoke the next morning with visions in his head--no
unusual thing with young men, yet strange and almost unknown to him.
They had not been wont to come at Blent, nor had his affair with Janie
Iver created them. Possibly a constant, although unconscious, reference
of all attractions to the standard, or the tradition, of Addie
Tristram's had hitherto kept him free; or perhaps it was merely that
there were no striking attractions in the valley of the Blent. Anyhow
the visions were here now, a series of them covering all th