ered. And did you ever hear such a voice?"

"No, I never did," I replied sulkily.

"Delicious," said Sir Peter--"a voice prettily cultivated, and sweet
enough to lull suspicion in a saint." He laughed: "Rosamund made great
eyes at him, the vixen, but I fancy he's too cold to catch fire from a
coquette. Did you learn if he is married?"

"Not from him, sir."

"From whom?"

I was silent.

"From whom?" he asked curiously.

"Why, I had it from one or two acquaintances, who say they knew his
wife when she fled with other refugees from Guy Park," I answered.

Sir Peter shrugged his handsome shoulders, dusted his nose with a whisk
of his lace handkerchief, and looked impatiently for a sign of his wife
and the party of ladies attending her.

"Carus," he said under his breath, "you should enter the lists, you
rogue."

"What lists?" I answered carelessly.

"Lord! he asks me what lists!" mimicked Sir Peter. "Why don't you court
her? The match is suitable and desirable. You ninny, do you suppose it
was by accident that Elsin Grey became our guest? Why, lad, we're set
on it--and, damme! but I'm as crafty a matchmaker as my wife, planning
the pretty game together in the secret of our chambers after you and
Elsin are long abed, and--Lord! I came close to saying 'snoring'--for
which you should have called me out, sir, if you are champion of Elsin
Grey."

"But, Sir Peter," I said smiling, "I do not love the lady."

"A boorish speech!" he snapped. "Take shame, Carus, you Tryon County
bumpkin!"

"I mean," said I, reddening, "and should have said, that the lady does
not love me."

"That's better." He laughed, and added, "Pay your court, sir. You are
fashioned for it."

"But I do not care to," I said.

"O Lord!" muttered Sir Peter, looking at the great beams above us, "my
match-making is come to naught, after all, and my wife will be furious
with you--furious, I say. And here she comes, too," he said,
brightening, as he ever did, at sight of his lovely wife, who had
remained his sweetheart, too; and this I am free to say, that, spite of
the looseness of the times and of society, never, as long as I knew
him, did Sir Peter forget in thought or deed those vows he took when
wedded. Sportsman he was, and rake and gambler, as were we all; and I
have seen him often overflushed with wine, but never heard from his
lips a blasphemy or foul jest, never a word unworthy of clean lips and
the clean heart he carried with him to his