rst
favorable opportunity, however, Helen reassured her, but advised her not
to talk about books, if she wanted to get on with the Essex Hunt.

On the present occasion the conversation was confined to the stables,
and after luncheon the house party sought amusement for the afternoon.
Osgood suggested a drive, so a team was put to the drag, and the
afternoon, until tea-time, was spent behind three chestnuts and a
piebald "tooled" by the host.

Meanwhile Duncan chafed under the discipline to which he felt he was
being carefully subjected, but it was not until after an elaborately
prepared dinner, served by the late butler of His Grace, the Duke of
Northampton, and two footmen, that he was permitted a word alone with
Helen. The other guests had gone into the drawing-room, at Helen's
suggestion, to listen to Van Vort's latest comic song, and feeling that
they would be off her hands for a while, she detained Duncan in the
passage-way leading to the library. Between the two doors was a broad
lounge, which had been placed there to offer an opportunity for a quiet
talk, and Helen took the initiative by seating herself and motioning
Duncan to a place beside her. He sat down sulkily, and remained silent
for a while, trying to drive off the peculiarly helpless feeling which
a man invariably experiences in the presence of a woman whose
personality is stronger than his own. Duncan plunged his hands into his
pockets and sank into a corner of the lounge, mentally deciding that he
was an ass, and trying to bring his reason to control his feelings. He
looked at Helen a moment, but when he met her glance, he winced and
turned his eyes away, and she felt that she had not been wrong in her
confidence that he would come back to her unchanged.

"You are solemn enough for a _croque-mort_," said Helen, after a few
moments of silence. "Aren't you going to amuse me?"

"No," grunted Duncan peevishly, "you brought me here."

"I didn't bring you here to sulk. I hope, for your own sake, you haven't
been behaving this way for the past six months. I understand you, but
strangers might not appreciate such manners." She said this in the
indifferent manner she invariably assumed when Duncan indulged in a
display of temper, and it was this indifference which always made his
outbursts so abortive.

"There is no need to behave so with strangers," he replied, trying to
assume a sarcastic manner, and feeling, inwardly, that it was not
successful. "They