w; and I don't care. The accidental ownership of property will not
prevent my entering it; but its ownership by you would prevent my
accepting your personal invitation to use it or even enter it. And now,
perhaps, you understand."

Malcourt, very white, nodded:

"It is so useless," he said--"all this bitterness. You don't know what
you're saying.... But I suppose you can't help it.... It always has been
that way; things go to smash if I try to do anything.... Well, Hamil,
we'll go on in your own fashion, if we must--for a while. But"--and he
laughed mirthlessly--"if it ends in a little shooting--you mustn't blame
me!"

Hamil surveyed him in cold displeasure.

"I always expected you'd find your level," he observed.

"Yes, I'll find it," mused Malcourt, "as soon as I know what it ought to
be. Under pressure it is difficult to ascertain such things; one's true
level may be higher or lower. My father and I have often discussed this
matter--and the ethics of straight shooting."

Hamil's eyes narrowed.

"If you mean that as a threat"--he began contemptuously; but Malcourt,
who had suddenly assumed that curious listening attitude, raised his
hand impatiently, as though silencing interruption.

And long after Hamil had turned on his heel and gone, he stood there,
graceful head lowered a little and partly turned as though poetically
appreciative of the soft twittering music which the bluebirds were
making among the falling apple-bloom.

Then, slowly, not noticing Hamil's departure, he retraced his steps
through the garden, head slightly inclined, as though to catch the
murmur of some invisible companion accompanying him. Once or twice he
nodded, a strange smile creeping over his face; once his lips moved as
though asking a question; no sound came from them, but apparently he had
his answer, for he nodded assent, halted, drew a deep breath, and looked
upward.

"We can try that," he said aloud in his naturally pleasant voice; and,
entering the house, went upstairs to his wife's apartments.

Shiela's maid answered his knock; a moment later, Shiela herself, gowned
for the afternoon, came to the door, and her maid retired.

"Do you mind my stepping in a moment?" he asked.

She glanced back into her own bedroom, closed the door, and led the way
to the small living-room at the other end of the house.

"Where's that maid of yours?" he asked.

"Sewing in my dressing-room. Shall I send her downstairs?"

"Yes; it's bett