zement and surprise, greeted her
coldly: "It is a long way for you to come," he said formally. "Twelve
miles, isn't it? You're not going to hunt?"

"Oh, no! I only came to look at the hounds and the horses--to remind
myself of all the good old times. You don't want to remember them, I
know. Life's gone on for you!"

Roger bent forward to pat the neck of his horse. "It goes on for all of
us," he said gruffly.

"Ah, well!" She sighed. He looked up and their eyes met. The wind had
slightly reddened her pale skin: her expression was one of great
animation, yet of great softness. The grace of the long, slender body in
the close-fitting habit; of the beautiful head and loosened hair under
the small, low-crowned beaver hat; the slender hand upon the reins--all
these various impressions rushed upon Barnes at once, bringing with them
the fascination of a past happiness, provoking, by contrast, the memory
of a harassing and irritating present.

"Is Heston getting on?" asked Mrs. Fairmile, smiling.

He frowned involuntarily.

"Oh, I suppose we shall be straight some day;" the tone, however, belied
the words. "When once the British workman gets in, it's the deuce to get
him out."

"The old house had such a charm!" said Chloe softly.

Roger made no reply. He rode stiffly beside her, looking straight before
him. Chloe, observing him without appearing to do anything of the kind,
asked herself whether the Apollo radiance of him were not already
somewhat quenched and shorn. A slight thickening of feature--a slight
coarsening of form--she thought she perceived them. Poor Roger!--had he
been living too well and idling too flagrantly on these American
dollars?

Suddenly she bent over and laid a gloved hand on his arm.

"Hadn't it?" she said, in a low voice.

He started. But he neither looked at her nor shook her off.

"What--the house?" was the ungracious reply. "I'm sure I don't know; I
never thought about it--whether it was pretty or ugly, I mean. It suited
us, and it amused mother to fiddle about with it."

Mrs. Fairmile withdrew her hand.

"Of course a great deal of it was ugly," she said composedly. "Dear Lady
Barnes really didn't know. But then we led such a jolly life in it--_we_
made it!"

She looked at him brightly, only to see in him an angry flash of
expression. He turned and faced her.

"I'm glad you think it was jolly. My remembrances are not quite so
pleasant."

She laughed a little--not flinching at al