t is best
for us all that she should not stay.--Oh, I have taken care that she
shall not suffer financially.--I am sure your suspicions of her are as
groundless as my sister's of me. In any case, I have no intention of
conducting an inquiry into so flimsy a charge. Now we know where we are.
If you will be pleased to prolong your stay, I shall be glad. Perhaps
you will learn to believe in me at last." He did not believe her in the
least, but the knowledge that he was no longer there on false pretenses
was no small solace, and he stayed on.

"Well," said Miss Arkwright, approaching, "let us go and look at our
prisoner. Have you seen him this morning?"

"Not since breakfast," said Lionel, rising. "What is his job to-day?"

"Digging and wheeling," answered Miss Arkwright with a smile. "I am told
that he shapes well."

They walked round the back of the house, and presently came upon a
second lawn. Across this was laid a narrow footway of planks. As they
approached a figure was seen wheeling a small barrow of earth toward an
embryonic flower bed. The figure came to the end of the causeway, upset
his load with a professional side-twist, and then wiped his brow. "I
believe that is always done," he said apologetically to the lady, who
had halted with her cavalier: "one picks up a wrinkle here and there.
Your gardener, for instance, showed me how the navvies unload their
barrows, correcting my natural impulse to upset it straight ahead."

"Do you feel tired?" asked Miss Arkwright critically: there was no
sympathy in her tone.

"The masses are used to that," answered Tony. "In time, no doubt, I
shall learn the trick of doing the maximum of work with the minimum of
effort. No, I can't say I am especially tired; it's rather a healthy
feeling on the whole."

"You're making a bit of a mess of the lawn," observed Lionel, his glance
falling on a scarred patch.

"Ah! that was in the apprentice stage," said Tony airily. "The barrow
ran off the plank, and this narrow wheel cuts. Of course I am always
open to learn, and if you----"

"Mr. Mortimer is a guest, not a serf," Miss Arkwright reminded him. Tony
bowed.

"I apologize. For a moment I had forgotten class distinctions. Beg
pardon, mum! By your leave, sir! I must be gettin' back to my job."

He trundled the barrow briskly out of sight to where a mound of soil
awaited his efforts. He was soon back, however, and another load of soil
was deposited dexterously upon the growing