with his brother, fell silent.

For a minute he watched her unobtrusively, and wondered why the life had
gone out of her.

"Sleepy, Miss Caldegard?" he asked at last.

"No," she replied. "Tired--a little--and worried. Everybody's so keen on
something. Father on--you know what. You, though I've never seen you do
anything, look keener than any man I ever saw; and Sir Randal's keen
about horrid business-letters. Generally I don't even want to open
mine."

"'Cause you don't want to answer 'em," suggested Dick.

"Yes," admitted the girl, laughing--and suddenly stopped.

"What's up?" asked Dick.

"You've reminded me," she answered, pressing the bell beside her, "that
there's one of my letters this morning that I never looked at. We were
talking such a lot. I remember the look of the envelope. I haven't a
notion what was in it."

"Might be money," suggested Dick.

"Or bad news," said Amaryllis. "I hate letters. When you want them, they
don't say enough. When you don't, they say too much." Then, to the
parlour-maid she had summoned: "I have left some letters on my table. If
there's one that hasn't been opened, please bring it to me." And to
Dick: "I wonder what it's like having dinner with Home Secretaries."

"Nearest I've been to it was having breakfast with a Prime Minister," he
answered. "It was soon over, and not so bad as it might have been. The
omelette was dispersed by shrapnel, and a machine-gun found the range of
the coffee-pot."

"What did the Prime Minister do?" asked the girl.

"Forgot where the door was, and went out of office by the window."

"Was it a war?"

"Oh, no," said Dick. "Only Mexico."

The parlour-maid returned with a sealed letter. Until she was gone,
Amaryllis eyed the writing on the envelope with reluctant displeasure;
then looked at Dick.

"Please do," he said.

When she had glanced at the letter.

"I wish you'd said don't," she complained. "Neither money nor bad news.
Foolishness from an unpleasant person--that's all."

On the point of tearing it, she checked herself.

"It's dad's business after all," she murmured, more to herself than
Dick; and rising, went upstairs quickly, as about to return.

As she disappeared from the eyes which could not help watching her,
Randal came up the narrow corridor from the study. Dick sank back into
his chair and looked up at his brother.

"Billiards?" said Randal. "Give me fifty, and I'll play you a hundred
up."

Dick shook his head.