e I made no sign either way. Now all this was petty, and
by every rule I ought to have been superior to any such trivial
annoyances. But bear in mind that I make no claim to be a hero; indeed,
I propose in this narrative to set down my own weaknesses with a candid
and impartial hand. And I intensely disliked Trask.

The latter proceeded to make himself at home. Of course he was going to
stay the evening, equally of course when we sat down to table he must
needs plant himself on the other side of Beryl, and the only thing that
kept him from entirely monopolising her was that he could not bring
himself to allow the attention of any one else in the room to stray for
many moments from himself, and as usual the conversation consisted of
Trask, with an occasional monosyllable of assent or dissent interjected
elsewhere. So hidebound was the self-complacency of Trask that even
George found it profitless to cheek him with any effect, although in
justice to George I am bound to say he tried his level best.

"What stay are you making, Holt?" brought out Trask, by way of varying
the conversation.

Now this sort of query propounded to a guest right in the eye of his
entertainers has always struck me as the very acme of idiotic
tactlessness, and about on a par with asking an acquaintance of twenty
minutes' standing whether he's married. Yet nothing is more common to
encounter than both forms of foolishness. But before I could frame an
adequate reply Brian answered for me.

"He's staying on altogether, Trask. We're going to put him up to the
ropes."

"Eh? Altogether? What? Going to fix up in this country then?"

I nodded, for I could not speak. I had just caught Brian's eye, and the
expression therein was too much for my feelings. I should have exploded
had I attempted speech, for the blank astonishment on Trask's face was
too comical. He looked about as happy under the announcement as though
somebody had just begun to open fire upon him with shrapnel. But he
said something about "the more the merrier," which, I fear, was not a
genuine expression of sentiment in the present instance.

"Pass the quince jam, please, Kenrick."

Clear and unconcerned rose Iris' voice. Every one stared, while Brian
emitted a subdued whistle.

"Hullo, young woman, you're getting on," he said.

The little girl grinned with mischievous delight, showing two extremely
pretty rows of white teeth.

"Oh, it's all right," she said. "We