le too familiar in
the way in which he held May Haredale's hand in his. Foster more or less
obliterated himself. It was his role in company to play the confidential
servant. He was quiet and subdued, though nothing escaped his sharp
glance. The dinner was excellent. Everything was in good taste, as
Fielden was forced to admit. The talk, for the most part, was lively and
was kept principally to the topic of sport. Afterwards there was a move
towards the billiard-room, and ere he realized it, Fielden found himself
engaged in a game of pool with Sir George and Foster, while May Haredale
and Copley looked on. A moment or two later these two vanished on a
pretext of Copley's that he wished to show May some sporting pictures he
had lately acquired. The pictures were duly inspected, but Copley made
no move to rejoin the party.

"Hadn't we better go back?" May suggested.

Copley turned an admiring glance upon the girl. There was no mistaking
the expression of his face. May had more than her fair share of courage,
but she was feeling a bit restless and nervous. She was wondering why
she disliked this man so much. She had had nothing but kindness and
courtesy at his hands. She knew that he had helped her father more than
once. Yet her instinct told her that Copley was not to be trusted. There
was a boldness about him that repelled her, something in his glittering
eye from which she recoiled. Now she knew almost before the words were
spoken what Copley was going to say.

"The others are not likely to miss us for a bit," he said. "Besides,
there is something I have to talk to you about. To be perfectly candid,
I asked you over here this evening on purpose. I wonder why it is that
you avoid me so."

"I was not aware of it," May murmured.

"But, indeed, you do. I have noticed it more than once. Surely you must
know why I come so frequently to Haredale Park. I am not much of a
ladies' man, Miss May, and I never have been. I have led a rough kind of
life. I know so little of the atmosphere of drawing-rooms. But every man
recognizes, when the time comes, when he meets with the woman who is
made for him alone, and that is the point I have reached. I think I
could provide you all you need. You will have a fine house and a good
position, and everything you want. I daresay this is a rough way of
putting it, but it is none the less sincere for that."

It was sincere enough, as May had to admit. Copley's assurance had
vanished. He was