ly contempt
for the well-fed idlers who lounged through life, not always, as he
suspected, even gracefully. These, however, were ideas he had no
intention of expressing.

"There are still people who have to face realities in the newer lands;
and I dare say you have some in this country, on your railroads and in
your mines, for example," he said. "But hadn't we better be getting on?"

They left the brink of the hollow and plodded through the heather toward
where a row of butts stood beneath a lofty ridge of the moor. A man
appeared from behind one as they approached and glanced at them with
unconcealed disapproval.

"Couldn't you have got here earlier, Bella?" he asked. "In another few
minutes you'd have spoiled the drive--the birds can't be far off the dip
of the ridge. Hardly fair to the keepers or the rest of us to take these
risks, is it?"

"When I do wrong, I never confess it, Clarence," the girl replied. "You
ought to know that by now."

Lisle heard the name and became suddenly intent--this was Clarence
Gladwyne! There was no doubt that he was a handsome man. He was tall and
held himself finely; he had a light, springy figure, with dark eyes and
hair. Besides, there was a certain stamp of refinement or fastidiousness
upon him which was only slightly spoiled by the veiled hint of languid
insolence in his expression.

"I heard a shot," he resumed.

"I've no doubt you did," the girl agreed. "An old cock grouse got up in
front of us--it was irresistibly tempting."

Gladwyne turned to Lisle with a slight movement of his shoulders which
was somehow expressive of half-indulgent contempt.

"You're Nasmyth's friend from Canada? I guess you don't understand these
things, but you might have made the birds break back," he said. "However,
we must get under cover now--there's your butt. I'll see you later."

He turned away and Lisle took up his station behind the wall of turf
pointed to. He had once upon a time been forcibly rebuked for his
clumsiness at some unaccustomed task in the Canadian bush and had not
resented it, but the faint movement of Gladwyne's shoulders had brought a
warmth to his face. The girl noticed this.

"Clarence can be unpleasant when he likes, but there are excuses for
him," she said. "A day's shooting is one of the things we take seriously,
and manners are not at a higher premium here than I suppose they are in
the wilds."

Lisle made no response, and there was silence on the sun-steeped m