“Ha!  So do I,” said the Colonel.  “You must look me up at the Club—­any time.  I shall be delighted.”

“You are very kind,” Scott said.  “But I go to town very rarely, and I never stay there.  My brother is far more of a society man than I am.”

“You will have to come out of your shell,” smiled Rose.

“Quite so—­quite so,” agreed the Colonel.  “It isn’t fair to cheat society, you know.  If we can’t dance at your brother’s wedding, you might give us the pleasure of dancing at yours.”

Bathurst uttered a careless laugh.  “I’ve just been accusing him of cutting his brother out,” he said lightly.  “But he denies all knowledge of the transaction.”

“Oh, but what a shame!” interposed Rose quickly.  “Mr. Studley, we won’t listen to this gossip.  Will you come up to my sitting-room, and show me that new game of Patience you were talking about yesterday?  Bring your drink with you!”

He went with her almost in silence.

In her own room she turned upon him with a wonderful, illumined smile, and held out her hand.

“I won’t have you badgered,” she said.  “But—­it is true, is it not?”

He took her hand, looking straight into her beautiful eyes.  There was more life in her face at that moment than he had ever seen before.  She was as one suddenly awakened.  “What is true, Miss de Vigne?” he questioned.

“That you care for her,” she answered, “that she cares for you.”

His look remained full upon her.  “In a friendly sense, yes,” he said.

“In no other sense?” she insisted.  Her eyes were shining, as if her whole soul were suddenly alight with animation.  “Tell me,” she said, as he did not speak immediately, “have you ever cared for her merely as a friend?”

There was no evading the question, neither for some reason could he resent it.  He hesitated for a second or two; then, “You have guessed right,” he said quietly.  “But she has never suspected it, and—­she never will.”

To his surprise Rose frowned.  “But why not tell her?” she said.  “Surely she has a right to know!”

He smiled and shook his head.  “Pardon me!  No one has the smallest right to know.  Would you say that of yourself if you cared for someone who did not care for you?”

She blushed under his eyes suddenly and very vividly, and in a moment turned from him.  “Ah, but that is different!” she said.  “A woman is different!  If she gives her heart where it is not wanted, that is her affair alone.”

He did not pursue his advantage; he liked her for the blush.

“Isn’t it rather an unprofitable discussion?” he said gently.  “Suppose we get to our game of Patience!”

And Rose acquiesced in silence.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE KNIGHT IN DISGUISE

A long, curling wave ran up the shingle and broke in a snow-white sheet of foam just below Dinah’s feet.  She was perched on a higher ridge of shingle, bareheaded, full in the glare of the mid-June sunlight.  Her brown hands were locked tightly around her knees.  Her small, pointed face looked wistfully over the sea.