irculating eddies of report at last reached Mr. Kilshaw, soon after
he had, by his bargain with Benham, been put in possession of the facts
that gentleman had to dispose of. Kilshaw knew Dick Derosne very well,
and for a time he remained quiet, expecting to see Dick's zeal slacken
and his infatuation cease of their own accord. When the opposite
happened, Kilshaw's anger was stirred within him; he was ready to find,
and in consequence at once found, a new sin and a fresh cause of
offence in the Premier. Without considering that Medland had many things
to do besides watching the course of flirtations or the development of
passions, he hastily concluded that he had come upon another scheme and
detected another manoeuvre intended to strengthen the Premier's exposed
position. He appreciated the advantage that such an alliance would be to
a man threatened with the kind of revelation which menaced Medland; it
was clear to his mind that Medland had appreciated it too, and had laid
a cunning trap for Dick's innocent feet. It did not suit him to produce
yet the public explosion which he destined for his enemy; but he lost no
time in determining to checkmate this last ingenious move by some
private communication which would put Dick--or perhaps better still,
Dick's friends--on guard.

Mr. Dick Derosne perhaps was not unaware that many people in Kirton
frowned on him as an unprincipled deceiver, or, at best, a fickle
light-o'-love; he would have been much more surprised, and also more
displeased, to know that there was even one who thought of him as a
deluded innocent, and had determined to rescue him from the snares which
were set for his destruction. He did not feel like a deluded innocent.
He was not sure how he did feel. Perhaps he also, as well as the man who
was preparing to rescue him, had a subject which did not bear too much
or too candid inward discussion; and he found it easier to stifle any
attempt at importunity on the part of his conscience than Kilshaw did.
Kilshaw could only appeal to the paramount interests of the public
welfare as an excuse for his own doubtful dealing: Dick could and did
look into Daisy Medland's eyes and forget that there was any need or
occasion for excuse at all. Supposing she were fond of him--and he could
not suppose anything else--what did he mean to do? Many people asked
that question, but Dick Derosne himself was not among them. He knew that
he would be very sorry to lose her, that she was