the habit of studying society items before placing the paper
on the breakfast-table. But Merrivale's clean-shaven face was free from
perturbation, and the man was puzzled.

"Reynolds," Merrivale said, "I shall go out of town this afternoon. Have
the motor ready at four!"

"Very good, my lord." Reynolds glanced at the table and noted with some
satisfaction that his master had only eaten one egg.

"Yes, I have finished," Merrivale said, taking up the paper. "If Mr.
Culver calls, ask him to be good enough to wait for me. And--that's all,"
he ended abruptly as he reached the door.

"As cool as a cucumber!" murmured Reynolds, as he began to clear the
table. "I shouldn't wonder but what he stuck the notice in hisself."

Merrivale, still with the morning paper in his hand, strolled easily down
to his club and collected a few letters. He then sauntered into the
smoking-room, where a knot of men, busily conversing in undertones, gave
him awkward greeting.

Merrivale lighted a cigar and sat down deliberately to study his paper.

Nearly an hour later he rose, nodded to several members, who glanced up
at him expectantly, and serenely took his departure.

A general buzz of discussion followed.

"He doesn't look exactly heart-broken," one man observed.

"Hearts grow tough in the West," remarked another. "He has probably done
the breaking-off himself. Jack Merrivale, late of California, isn't the
sort of chap to stand much trifling."

A young man with quizzical eyes broke in with a laugh.

"Ask Mr. Cosmo Fletcher! He is really well up on that subject."

"Also Mr. Richard Culver, apparently," returned the first speaker.

Culver grinned and bowed.

"Certainly, sir," he said. "But--luckily for himself--he has never
qualified for a leathering from Jack Merrivale, late of California. I
don't believe myself that he did do the breaking-off. As they haven't met
more than a dozen times, it can't have gone very deep with him. And,
anyhow, I am certain the girl never cared twopence for anything except
his title, the imp. She's my cousin, you know, so I can call her what I
like--always have."

"I shouldn't abuse the privilege in Merrivale's presence if I were you,"
remarked the man who had expressed the opinion that Merrivale was not one
to stand much trifling.

* * * * *

"Well, but wasn't it unreasonable?" said Hilary St. Orme, with hands
clasped daintily behind her dark head. "Who could stand