And with this very ambiguous promise poor Mrs. Welman was forced to be content.  Whatever his inward view of his own meaning was, Ayre certainly fulfilled to the letter his promise of keeping an eye on them.  Kate was at first much annoyed at his appearance; she thought she saw in him an emissary of Eugene.  Sir Roderick tactfully disabused her mind of this notion, and, without intruding himself, he managed to be with them a good deal, and with Haddington alone a good deal more.  Moreover, even when absent, he could generally have given a shrewd guess where they were and what they were doing.  Without altogether neglecting the other claims at which Rickmansworth had hinted, and which resolved themselves into a long-standing and entirely platonic attachment, he yet devoted himself with zest and assiduity to his self-imposed task.

In its prosecution he contrived to make use of Rickmansworth to some extent.  The young man was a hospitable soul, delighting in parties and picnics.  Only consent to sit with him on his four-in-hand and let him drive you, and he cheerfully feasted you and all your friends.  His acquaintance was large, and not, perhaps, very select.  But Ayre insisted on the proper distinctions being observed, and was indebted to Rickmansworth’s parties for many opportunities of observation.  He was sure Haddington meant to marry Kate if he could; the scruples which had in some degree restrained his actions, though not his designs, at Millstead, had vanished, and he was pushing his suit, firmly and daringly ignoring the fact of the engagement.  Kate did nothing to remind him of it that Ayre could see, but her behavior, on the other hand, convinced him that Haddington was to her only a second string, and that, unless compelled, she would not let Eugene go.  She took occasion more than once to show him that she regarded her relation to Eugene as fully existent.  No doubt she thought there was a chance that such words might find their way to Eugene’s ears.  It is hardly necessary to say they did not.

Watch as he might Ayre’s chance was slow in coming.  He knew very well that the fact of a young lady, deserted by him who ought to have been in attendance, consoling herself with a flirtation with somebody else, was not enough for him to go upon.  He must have something more tangible than that.  He did not, indeed, look for anything that would compel Eugene to act; he had no expectation and, to do him justice, no hope of that, for he knew Eugene would act on nothing but an extreme necessity.  His hope lay in Kate herself.  On her he was prepared to have small mercy; against her he felt justified in playing the very rigor of the game.  But for a long while he had no opportunity of beginning the rubber.  A fortnight wore away, and nothing was done.  Ayre determined to wait on events no longer; he would try his hand at shaping them.

“I wonder if Rick is too great a fool?” he said to himself meditatively one morning, as he crossed one of the little bridges, and took his way to the Kurhaus in search of his friend.  “I must try him.”