r. Markrute personally or given any opinion about
him; and yet, as Anne had seen, they had often talked. There must be
something in it, but that was not enough to account for Ethelrida's
face. A pale, rather purely colorless complexion like hers did not
suddenly change to bright scarlet cheeks, without some practical means!
And, as Anne very well knew, kisses were a very practical means! But her
friend Ethelrida would never allow any man to kiss her, unless she had
promised to marry him. Now, if it had been Lily Opie, she could not have
been so sure, though she hoped she could be sure of any nice girl; but
about Ethelrida she could take her oath. It followed, as Ethelrida had
been quite pale at lunch and was not a person who went to sleep over
fires, something extraordinary must have happened--but what?

"Crow, dear, I have never been so thrilled in my life," she said, after
her thoughts had come to this stage. "The lurid tragedy of the honeymoon
pair cannot compare in interest to anything connected with my sweet
Ethelrida, for me, so it is your duty to put that horribly wise, cynical
brain of yours to work and unravel me this mystery. Look, here is Mr.
Markrute coming in--let us watch his face!"

But, although they subjected the financier to the keenest good-natured
scrutiny, he did not show a sign or give them any clue. He sat down
quietly, and began talking casually to the group by the tea-table, while
he methodically spread his bread and butter with blackberry jam. Such
delicious schoolroom teas the company indulged in, at the hospitable
tea-table of Montfitchet! He did not seem to be even addressing
Ethelrida. What could it be?

"I believe we have made a mistake after all, Crow," Lady Anningford said
disappointedly. "Look--he is quite unmoved."

The Crow gave one of his chuckles, while he answered slowly, between his
sips of tea:

"A man doesn't handle millions in the year, and twist and turn about
half the governments of Europe, if he can't keep his face from showing
what he doesn't mean you to see! Bless your dear heart, Mr. Francis
Markrute is no infant!" and the chuckle went on.

"You may think yourself very wise, Crow, and so you are," Lady
Anningford retorted severely, "but you don't know anything about love.
When a man is in love, even if he were Machiavelli himself, it would be
bound to show in his eye--if one looked long enough."

"Then your plan, my dear Queen Anne, is to look," the Crow said,
smi