y passed
arm in arm down the pergola. "I am terrified of my father, though in
many ways he is almost princely in his generosity and in the broad view
he takes of things. Then his kindness to all dumb animals, and the way
they love him, is the most amazing thing I ever knew. If we were alone
here to-night, every animal in the house would be around his chair. He
has even the cats locked up if we have visitors, so that no one shall
see it. But I am quite honest when I tell you this--I do not believe
that my father has the ordinary outlook upon crime. I believe that there
is a good deal more of the Old Testament about him than the New."

"And this change which we were speaking about?" he asked, lowering his
voice as they reached the lawn.

"I believe that somehow or other the end is coming," she said. "Francis,
forgive me if I tell you this--or rather let me be forgiven--but I know
of one crime my father has committed, and it makes me fear that there
may be others. And I have the feeling, somehow, that the end is close at
hand and that he feels it, just as we might feel a thunder-storm in the
air."

"I am going to prove the immemorial selfishness of my sex," he
whispered, as they drew near the little table. "Promise me one thing
and I don't care if your father is Beelzebub himself. Promise me that,
whatever happens, it shall not make any difference to us?"

She smiled at him very wonderfully, a smile which had to take the place
of words, for there were servants now within hearing, and Sir Timothy
himself was standing in the doorway.

CHAPTER XXXII

Lady Cynthia and Sir Timothy strolled after dinner to the bottom of the
lawn and watched the punt which Francis was propelling turn from the
stream into the river.

"Perfectly idyllic," Lady Cynthia sighed.

"We have another punt," her companion suggested.

She shook her head.

"I am one of those unselfish people," she declared, "whose idea of
repose is not only to rest oneself but to see others rest. I think these
two chairs, plenty of cigarettes, and you in your most gracious and
discoursive mood, will fill my soul with content."

"Your decision relieves my mind," her companion declared, as he arranged
the cushions behind her back. "I rather fancy myself with a pair of
sculls, but a punt-pole never appealed to me. We will sit here and enjoy
the peace. To-morrow night you will find it all disturbed--music and
raucous voices and the stampede of my poor, frig