e cheeks had reddened for an
instant, but the flood of surprise and emotion ebbed as quickly as it
flowed, and left her wan, with parted lips.

At last she looked at Trenholme and spoke.

"Thank you!" she said, and their eyes met.

The artist understood; and he in turn, blanched somewhat. Rather
hastily he replaced the picture in its receptacle.

Robert Fenley coughed and grinned, and the spell was broken.

"You said I'd call it hot stuff," he said. "Well, you sized my opinion
up to a T. Of course, it's jolly clever--any fellow can see that----"

"Good night, Mr. Trenholme," said Sylvia, and she made off at a rapid
pace. Robert grinned again.

"No young lady would stand that sort of thing," he chuckled. "You
didn't really think she would--eh, what? But look here, I'll buy it.
Send me a line later."

He hurried after Sylvia, running to overtake her. Trenholme stood
there a long time; in fact, until the two were hidden by the distant
line of trees. Then he smiled.

"So you are Robert Fenley," he communed, packing the portfolio
leisurely. "Well, if Sylvia Manning marries you, I'll be a bachelor
all my days, for I'll never dare imagine I know anything about a
woman's soul; though I'm prepared at this hour of grace to stake my
career that that girl's soul is worthy of her very perfect body."

Puffing a good deal, Fenley contrived to overhaul his "cousin."

"By jing, Sylvia, you can step out a bit," he said. "And you change
your mind mighty quick. Five minutes ago you were ready to wait any
length of time till that Johnny turned up, and now you're doing more
than five per. What's the rush? It's only half past seven, and we
don't dress tonight."

"I'm not dining downstairs," she answered.

"Oh, I say, I can't stand Hilton all alone."

"Nor can I stand either of you," she was tempted to retort, but
contented herself by saying that she had arranged for a meal to be
served in her aunt's room. Grumble and growl as he might, Robert could
not shake her resolve; he was in a vile temper when he reached the
dining-room.

His brother had not arrived, so he braced himself for an ordeal by
drinking a stiff whisky and soda. When Hilton came in the pair nodded
to each other but ate in silence. At last Robert glanced up at
Tomlinson.

"Just shove the stuff on the table and clear out," he said. "We'll
help ourselves. Mr. Hilton and I want to have a quiet talk."

Hilton gave him a quick underlook but did not interfere. Pe