rposed. "If I hadn't come forward with my facts. But I
couldn't well keep them to myself, could I?" A few more words were said
and then Dick rose from his chair.

"Time's up, Stella," and he explained to Henry Thresk: "We have to look
over a house this afternoon."

"A house? Yes, I see," said Thresk, but he spoke slowly and there was
just audible a little inflection of doubt in his voice. Stella was
listening for it; she heard it when her two antagonists noticed nothing.

"But, Dick," she said quickly, "we can put the inspection off."

"Not on my account," Thresk returned. "There's no need for that." He was
not looking at Stella whilst he spoke and she longed to see his face. She
must know exactly how she stood with him, what he thought of her. She
turned impulsively to Mr. Hazlewood.

"I haven't been asked, but may I come to dinner? You see I owe a good
deal to Mr. Thresk."

Mr. Hazlewood was for the moment at a loss. He had not lost hope that
between now and dinner-time explanations would be given which would
banish Stella Ballantyne altogether from Little Beeding. But he had no
excuse ready and he stammered out:

"Of course, my dear. Didn't I ask you? I must have forgotten. I certainly
expect you to dine with us to-night. Margaret will no doubt be here."

Margaret Pettifer had taken little part in the conversation about the
tea-table. She sat in frigid hostility, speaking only when politeness
commanded. She accepted her brother's invitation with a monosyllable.

"Thank you," said Stella, and she faced Henry Thresk, looking him
straight in the eyes but not daring to lay any special stress upon the
words: "Then I shall see you to-night."

Thresk read in her face a prayer that he should hold his hand until she
had a chance to speak with him. She turned away and went from the room
with Dick Hazlewood.

The old man rose as soon as the door was closed.

"Now we might have a look at the miniatures, Mr. Thresk. You will excuse
us, Margaret, won't you?"

"Of course," she answered upon a nod from her husband. The two men passed
through the doors into the great library whilst Thresk took a more
ceremonious leave of Mrs. Pettifer; and as Hazlewood opened the drawers
of his cabinets Robert Pettifer said in a whisper:

"That was a pretty good failure, I must say. And it was my idea too."

"Yes," replied Hazlewood in a voice as low. "What do you think?"

"That they share no secret."

"You are satisfied then?"