populous Hill station to seek a husband. She was
young, she was handsome, and she was free. It seemed the only reasonable
conclusion to draw. But since that date society had had ample occasion
to change its mind. Beryl Denvers plainly valued her freedom above every
other consideration, and those who wooed her wooed in vain. She
discouraged the attentions of all mankind with a rigour that never
varied, till society began to think that her brief matrimonial
experience had turned her into a man-hater. And yet this was hard to
believe, for, though quick-tempered, she was not bitter. She was quite
willing to be friendly with all men, up to a certain point. But beyond
this subtle boundary few dared to venture and none remained. There was a
wonderful fascination about her, a magnetism that few could resist; but
notwithstanding this she held herself aloof, never wholly forgetting her
caution even with those who considered themselves her intimates.

Having dismissed Lord Ronald Prior, with whom she was almost
unreasonably angry, she ordered her rickshaw and went out to cool her
hot cheeks. The recent interview had disquieted her to the depths. She
tried to regard his presumption as ludicrous, yet failed to do so. For
what he had said was to a large extent true. She was unprotected, and
she was also lonely, though this she never owned. She stifled a sigh as
she set forth. Hitherto she had always liked Lord Ronald. Why had he
couched his proposal in such impossible terms?

She went to the polo-ground to watch the practice, and here found
several friends in whose society she tried to forget her discomfiture.
But it remained with her notwithstanding, and was still present when she
returned to prepare for dinner. She was dining with the Ellises that
night, and she hoped ardently that Lord Ronald would not make one of the
party.

But she was evidently destined for mortification that day, for the first
thing she saw upon entering the drawing-room was his trim figure
standing by her hostess. And, "Lord Ronald will take you in, dear," said
Nina Ellis, as she greeted her.

Beryl glanced at him, and he bowed in his courtly way. "I hope you don't
mind," he murmured.

She did mind exceedingly, but it was impossible to say so. She could
only yield to the inevitable and rest the tips of her fingers upon his
sleeve.

It was with a decided sense of relief that she found Major Fletcher
seated on her other side. A handsome, well-mannered c