possibility that they were right; he
was, undoubtedly, old; and he had been unable to influence, turn,
Mariana, in the slightest degree. He didn't approve of her present,
head-strong course ... only a few hours ago he had voluntarily, gladly,
relinquished all effort to comprehend it.

"Perhaps," Provost suggested, "since we are here we'd better talk to
him. I suppose they're out about the place. You could send Rudolph."
Howat replied that he would find them himself. He wanted, now, to
prepare James Polder for any incidental unpleasantness. The latter, he
knew, had a hasty temper, a short store of patience. After all, he had
acted very well in a difficult situation. It had been Mariana. Howat
Penny was aware of a growing sympathy for young Polder. His was a more
engaging person than Kingsfrere's pasty presence and sharp reputation at
cards. He got his hat, and went out over the thick, smooth sod, into the
slumberous, blue radiance of the early summer noon.

He found Mariana and James Polder sitting on a bank by the Furnace.
"Peter Provost's here with Kingsfrere," he told them quietly. "They want
to see.... James, about some nonsense bantered around town." Polder
rose quickly, instantly antagonistic. "At the house?" he demanded,
already moving away. Mariana stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.
"Don't pay any attention to what they may say, Jimmy," she commanded.
"It isn't Peter Provost's affair, and Kingsfrere in a fatherly pose is a
scream." They moved forward together. "I'll see them," she added
cuttingly.

"I will attend to this," James Polder told her. "I don't want any woman
explaining my actions. They haven't a whisper on me. I'm glad enough of
an opportunity to talk to a man."

"If you lose your temper--" Howat commenced, but Mariana impatiently
interrupted him. "Why shouldn't Jim lose his temper?" she demanded. "I
would. Personally, I'd be glad if he did, although it mightn't be
fortunate for Kingsfrere. He's a good deal of a dumpling. But I will be
furious if you look guilty. Tell them we're mad about each other and
that I am waiting for the smallest encouragement to go with you."

Howat Penny left Mariana at the door, and went in with Polder. Provost
was seated, with an open paper; Kingsfrere studying the photograph of
Scalchi. "This," said Howat generally, "is my guest, James Polder."
Peter Provost extended his square, powerful hand; but the other, Jannan,
made no movement. "Well?" Polder demanded agg