t into taking life as casually as--as--"

"I understand," Jacob interrupted. "Leave it to me, Lady Mary.
Something shall be done, I promise you."

The motor horn was sounding and they turned back. Jacob,
notwithstanding the disgraceful treatment which he had received, was
conscious of a curious unwillingness to take his place in the car and
leave Kelsoton Castle behind him.

"You must let me know," his companion begged softly, "how things go on
with you and Miss Bultiwell."

"There will never be anything to tell you," he assured her. "I am
becoming quite confident about that."

She smiled at him enigmatically. Her footsteps, too, were lagging.

"Our love affairs don't seem to be prospering, do they?" she sighed.

Jacob leaned a little towards her.

"I should be almost content,"--

Dauncey interrupted them a little ruthlessly. He held his watch in his
hand.

"This is the only train to-day, Jacob," he broke in, "and Lord
Felixstowe says that we shall barely catch it."

Jacob climbed into the car. The Marquis bade them all a punctilious
and courteous farewell. Lady Mary waved her hand and swung away down
the little path that led to the sea. When Jacob looked back, there was
no one standing upon the Castle steps but the Marquis, bland,
courteous, a very striking and distinguished figure. So ended Jacob's
visit, momentous in more ways than one.

CHAPTER XXIII

With a sigh of relief, Jacob handed his driver to the caddy and
watched the career of a truly hit ball down the smooth fairway. There
was a little murmur of applause from a hundred or so of onlookers. By
that stroke, Jacob had opened the Cropstone Wood Golf Links.

"Pretty certain where your name will come on the handicap list, Mr.
Pratt," his opponent observed, after his own somewhat inferior effort.

"If I can qualify for scratch," Jacob replied, as they marched off
together, first of twenty-three couples of prize-competing Cropstone
Woodites, "one of the ambitions of my life will be gratified."

What really were his ambitions, Jacob wondered, in the pretty little
luncheon room at the club an hour or so later, as he resumed his seat
amidst a storm of applause, having renounced to the next successful
competitor the cup which he had himself presented and won. Upon the
handicap sheet the magic letter "Scr." had already been emblazoned
opposite to his name, as the result of a very sound seventy-nine on
an eighty bogey course. There was scarcel