h character. Now that Meldon was talking in an interesting way she
felt inclined to encourage him to reveal himself.

"Quite right. It is. I don't know a remoter place. Nobody will know
you there, and if anybody guesses, I'll make it my business to put them
off the scent at once. But there'll be no necessity for that. There
isn't a man in the place will connect Miss King with the other lady.
All the same, I don't think I'd stop too long at Doyle's hotel if I
were you. Doyle is frightfully curious about people."

"I'm not stopping there," said Miss King. "I have taken a house."

"What house? I know Ballymoy pretty well, and there isn't a house in
it you could take furnished, except the place that belonged to old Sir
Giles Buckley."

"I've taken that for two months," said Miss King.

Meldon whistled softly. He was surprised. Ballymoy House, even if let
at a low rent, is an expensive place to live in.

"My servants went down there yesterday," said Miss King. She opened
her bag and groped among the contents as she spoke.

"Would you be very much shocked if I smoked a cigarette?" she asked.

"Not in the least," said Meldon. "I smoke myself."

"I was afraid--being a clergyman--you are a clergyman, aren't you?
Some people are so prejudiced against ladies smoking."

"I'm not," said Meldon. "I'm remarkably free from prejudices of any
kind. I pride myself on being open-minded. My wife doesn't smoke, but
that's merely because she doesn't like it. If she did, I shouldn't
make the slightest objection. All the same, you oughtn't to go puffing
cigarettes about the streets of Ballymoy. The Major's a bit
old-fashioned in some ways, and I don't expect Doyle is accustomed to
see ladies smoking. You'll have to be very careful. If you start
people talking they may find out who you are, and then there will
certainly be unpleasantness."

"Would they disapprove of me?"

"Almost sure to. We Irish have the name of being a wild lot, I know;
but--well, if you don't mind my saying so, most of us would be rather
shy of you. I don't mind you myself in the least, of course. I'm not
that kind of man. Still, your reputation! You've been a good deal in
the papers, haven't you?"

Miss King, curiously enough, seemed pleased at this account of her
reputation. It is gratifying to a novelist to be famous, and even
notoriety is pleasant. She felt that, having braved the censure of
Lady Hawkesby, she could afford to de