one whom
Ronsdale had defeated laughed good-naturedly.

Again he replied. Steele found himself walking with Jocelyn Wray toward
the window. Across the room a footman who had been waiting for the
conclusion of the contest, and an opportune moment, now approached Lord
Ronsdale and extended a salver.

"It came a short time ago, my Lord!"

John Steele heard; his glance flashed toward Ronsdale. The telegram,
then, had been for--? He saw an inscrutable smile cross the nobleman's
face.

"Any more aspirants?" the military man called out.

"Only myself left," observed Sir Charles. "And I resign the privilege!"

"Then," said the girl, standing somewhat apart with John Steele, near
one of the great open windows, "must you, Mr. Steele, be proclaimed
victor?"

"Victor!" He looked down. Between them bright colors danced, reflections
of hues from the old stained glass above; they shone like red roses
fallen from her lap at his feet. For a moment he continued to regard
them; then slowly gazed up to the soft colored gown, to the beautiful
young face, the hair that shone brightly against the background of
branches and twigs, gleaming with watery drops like thousands of gems.
"Victor!" He--

A door closed quietly as Lord Ronsdale went out.

* * * * *

CHAPTER XI

WAYS AND MEANS

The afternoon of that same day there arrived at the village of Strathorn
from London a discreet-looking little man who, descending at the Golden
Lion, was shown to a private sitting-room on the second story. Calling
for a half-pint from the best tap and casually surveying the room, he
settled himself in a chair with an air of nonchalance, which a certain
eagerness in his eyes seemed to belie.

"Any mail or message for me, landlord?" he inquired, giving his name,
when that worthy reappeared with the tankard.

"No, sir."

"Nor any callers?"

"None that I've heard of--" A sound of wheels at that moment
interrupted; the landlord went to the window. "Why, it's his lordship,"
he remarked. "And such weather to be out in!" as a sudden gust of rain
beat against the pane. "Lord Ronsdale who is staying at Strathorn
House," he explained for the stranger's benefit. "And he's coming in!"

The host hurried to the door but already a footstep was heard on the
stairway and the voice of the nobleman inquiring for the new-comer's
room.

"Right up this way! The gentleman is in here, your Lordship," called
down the landlo