“I really hardly know;” she smiles, and then says quietly, “Why, amusement, of course.”

At this moment Minnie Hescott, who detests being left out of anything, determines on boring a way into the tête-à-tête before her.

“Where is Tita?” asks she.  “We wanted her for tennis, she is such a good player; but no one could find her.”

“Not even your brother?” asks Mrs. Bethune.

“Not even Tom; she disappeared somewhere after breakfast.”

“Why, so did he!” and Mrs. Bethune lifts her brows in a very amused fashion.

“Oh no, he didn’t,” says Minnie Hescott, casting a sudden shrewd glance at her.  “He was in the library writing letters till an hour ago.  I know that, because I was with him.”

“What an excellent sister you are!” says Mrs. Bethune, with a slight laugh.

“Why?” asks Miss Hescott slowly.  “Because I was with him?” Her tone is a little dangerous.

“Naturally,” says Mrs. Bethune, saving herself promptly.  “To be always with one’s brother shows devotion indeed; but you forget your rôle, don’t you?  Where has he been for the past hour?  You haven’t told us that!  Surely you have not forsaken him now, when it may be the hour of his extremity.”  Her tone is jesting, but all through it Rylton can read between the lines.

“He is with Colonel Neilson, at the kennels,” replies Miss Hescott promptly.

“Ah, I told you you were a good sister,” says Mrs. Bethune.

“Because I said Tom was with Colonel Neilson?  Do you think he isn’t with him?” asks Minnie, looking at her fixedly.

“My dear girl!  What a bêtise! No!  Because you take such care to know what he is doing.  And so he is now with Colonel Neilson?”

“Yes,” shortly.

“I’m afraid I must go,” says Sir Maurice; “if I don’t catch those Wickses at this hour I shall never catch them at all.”  He nods to Minnie.  For a second his eyes meet Marian’s.  There is something in them that so satisfies her, that on way back with Minnie she makes herself thoroughly agreeable to that astute damsel.  What was there in his eye?—­rage, hatred, revenge!

In truth, Rylton’s mind is full of evil thoughts as he strides onward into the recesses of the wood.  The falling autumn leaves crackle beneath his swift tread, and through the trees the sky shows signs of storm.  But what storm in all Nature can be compared with the rage that stirs the heart of man?

Marian Bethune’s coverts hints, added to his own suspicions, have set his heart on fire!  And that girl’s attempts at evasion, her hiding of her brother’s faults—­all that, too, had been laid bare to him by Marian!

Just now it seems to him as true as life itself that Tita and Tom Hescott have gone for a walk together; somewhere—­anywhere beyond the ken of those of her own household.  To think that he should have sacrificed his whole life—­that he should have married this child, who is less to him that thistledown, to be cast aside by her, and to let her bring down his good name with ignominy to the dust.