in honour of Brendon, and then left them.

They spoke of him, and Mark was specially interested to learn
Jenny's attitude; but she gave no sign and praised Giuseppe only for
his voice, his versatility, and good nature.

"He can turn his hand to anything," she said. "He was going fishing
this afternoon; but it is too rough, so he will work in the garden
again."

She hoped presently that Doria would find a rich wife and reach the
summit of his ambitions. It was clear enough that he did not enter
into any of Mrs. Pendean's calculations for her own future. But
Jenny said one thing to surprise her listener while still speaking
of the Italian.

"He doesn't like my sex," she declared. "In fact he makes me cross
sometimes with his scornful attitude to us. He's as bad as Uncle
Ben, who is a very hard-hearted old bachelor. He says, 'Women,
priests, and poultry never have enough.' But I say that men are far
greedier than women, and always were."

The sailor laughed and they went out upon the terrace for a time
where soon the early dusk began to fall. The storm had not yet
developed and there was a fierce and fiery light over the west at
sunset while a tremendous wind blew the sky almost clear for a time.
When the Start lighthouse opened a white, starry eye over the
deepening purple of the sea, and heavy waves beat below them in
hollow thunder, they returned to the house and Mr. Redmayne showed
Brendon curiosities. They drank tea at five o'clock and an hour
later the detective went on his way. A general invitation had been
extended to him and the old sailor expressly declared that it would
give him pleasure to receive Mark as a guest at any time. It was a
suggestion that tempted Brendon not a little.

"You've done a wonderful thing," said Jenny, as she saw him to the
outer gate. "You've quite won my uncle, and really that's a feat."

"Would it bore you if I fell in with his proposal and came down for
a few days after Christmas?" he asked, and she assured him that it
would give her pleasure.

Heartened a little he went his way, but the wave of cheerfulness set
flowing by her presence soon ebbed again. He felt full of suspicion
and half believed her indifference regarding Doria to be assumed. He
guessed that she would be jealous to give no sign until the days of
her mourning were numbered, but he felt a melancholy conviction that
when another summer was passed, Jenny Pendean would take a second
husband.

He debated the w