“My dear fellow, that’s a bit thick,” laughed Bathurst; he had found the vulnerable spot, and he meant to make the most of it.  “Do you actually expect me to believe that you won her away from your brother without knowing it?  That’s rather a tough proposition, too tough for my middle-aged digestion.  You’ve been trifling with her young affections, but you are not man enough to own it.”

“You are wrong, utterly wrong,” Scott said.  He restrained himself with difficulty; for still something was at work within him urging him to be temperate.  “Dinah has never dreamed of falling in love with me.  As you say, the bare idea is manifestly absurd.”

“Then who is she in love with?” demanded Bathurst, with lazy insistence.  “You’re the only other man she knows, and there’s certainly someone.  No girl would throw up such a catch as your brother for the mere sentiment of the thing.  It stands to reason there must be someone else.  And there is no one but you.  She doesn’t know anyone else, I tell you.  She has no opportunities.  Her mother sees to that.”

Scott was bending over the fire, his face to the flame.  His indignation had died down.  He was very still, as one deep in thought.  Could it be the true word spoken in ill-timed jest which he had just heard?  He wondered; he wondered.

A golden radiance was spreading forth to him from the heart of those leaping flames, like the coming of the dawnlight over the dark earth.  He watched it spell-bound, utterly unmindful of the man behind him.  If this thing were true!  Ah, if this thing were true!

A sudden sound made him turn to see Colonel de Vigne and his daughter enter.

They came forward to greet him and Bathurst.  Rose was smiling; her eyes were softly bright.

“How happy she looks!” was the thought that occurred to him, but it was only a passing thought.  It vanished in a moment as he heard her accost Bathurst.

“How is our poor little Dinah by this time?”

“You had better ask this gentleman,” airily responded Bathurst.  “He has elected to make himself responsible for her welfare.”

Rose’s delicate brows went up, but very strangely Scott no longer felt in the least disconcerted.  He replied to her unspoken query without difficulty.

“Dinah felt that she could not face the gossips,” he said, “and as Isabel was badly wanting her, they have gone away together.  Except for old Biddy, they will be quite alone, and it will do them both all the good in the world.”

Rose’s brow cleared.  “What an excellent arrangement!” she murmured sympathetically.  “And—­your brother?”

Scott smiled.  “Needless to say, he is not of the party.  His plans are somewhat uncertain.  He may go abroad for a time, but I doubt if he banishes himself for long when the London season is in full swing.”

Rose’s smile answered his.  “I think he is very wise,” she said.  “When Easter is over, we shall probably follow his example.  I hope we shall have the pleasure of meeting you when we are all in town.”