He liked dancing, and was easily the best dancer among the men.  He also liked Ina Rose, or at least she had always thought so, till that night.  They were friends of the hunting-field rather than of the drawing-room, but they always drifted together wherever they met.  Sir Beverley had never troubled himself about the intimacy.  The girl belonged to the county, and if not quite the brilliant match for Piers that he would have chosen, she came at least of good old English stock.  He knew and liked her father, and he would not have made any very strenuous opposition to an alliance between the two.  The girl was well bred and heiress to the Colonel’s estate.  She would have added considerably to Piers’ importance as a landowner, and she knew already how to hold up her head in society.  Also, she led a wholesome, outdoor existence, and was not the sort of girl to play with a man’s honour.

No, on the whole Sir Beverley had no serious objection to the prospect of a marriage between them, save that he had no desire to see Piers married for another five years at feast.  But Ina could very well afford to wait five years for such a prize as Piers.  Meanwhile, if they cared to get engaged—­it would keep the boy out of mischief, and there would be no harm in it.

So had run Sir Beverley’s thoughts prior to the appearance of the mother’s help at the Vicarage.  But she—­the woman with the resolute mouth and grey, steadfast eyes—­had upset all his calculations.  It had not needed Lennox Tudor’s hint to put him on his guard.  He had known whither the boy’s wayward fancy was tending before that.  The scene in the hunting-field had been sufficient revelation for him, and had lent strength to his arm and fury to his indignation.

Piers’ decision to spend his last night in England at a dance had been a surprise to him, but then the boy had puzzled him a good many times of late.  He had even asked himself once or twice if it had been his deliberate intention to do so.  But since it was absolutely certain that the schemer at the Vicarage would not be present at Dick Guyes’ party, Sir Beverley did not see any urgent necessity for keeping his grandson at his side.  He even hoped that Piers would enjoy himself though he deemed him a fool to go.

And, to judge from appearances, Piers was enjoying himself.  Having parted from Ina, he claimed for his partner his hostess,—­a pretty, graceful woman who danced under protest, but so exquisitely that he would hardly be persuaded to give her up when the dance was over.

He scarcely left the ball-room for the rest of the evening, and when the party broke up he was among the last to leave.  Dick ingenuously thanked him for helping to make the affair a success.  He was not feeling particularly happy himself, since Ina had consistently snubbed him throughout; but he did not hold Piers in any way responsible for her attitude.  Dick’s outlook on life was supremely simple.  He never attempted to comprehend the ways of women, being serenely content to regard them as beyond his comprehension.  He hoped and believed that one day Ina would be kind to him, but he was quite prepared to wait an indefinite time for that day to dawn.  He took all rebuffs with resignation, and could generally muster a smile soon after.