“You do not see him very often, do you?” said Lady Constance, who knew to a day how often Adrien had visited the Castle during the last twelve months, during which she herself had sighed for his absence.

“No,” he admitted.  “I always seem to have so many engagements; but now I am going to try a new mode of life—­thanks to your words.”

“My words?” echoed Lady Constance, in genuine surprise.  “I thought you said uncle had been speaking to you.”

“Yes,” he agreed.  “But it was what you said to me during our ride that decided me really—­about the tenants, and all that.”

“You must not listen to all my complaints,” she said, smilingly.  “I am proud of the Barminster estates, naturally; and I cannot bear that they should be inferior to those of our neighbour——­”

“Who is that?” he inquired quickly.

“Why, Lord Standon, of course,” was the calm reply.

He started at the sound of the name of one he deemed his rival.  The jealous blood rushed to his face and his heart beat fast.

“Naturally,” he said, in tones as quiet as he could make them, “you would compare all estates with his—­now!”

With womanly intuition she saw his meaning, but did not choose to dispel his suspicions just then.  Not that she was a coquette or flirt, for she loved this man with all the strength of her being; but, on the other hand, she knew, or thought she knew, his disposition only too well, and she feared to yield to her natural inclinations, which were to allow him to see that he had only to speak, and she was ready and willing to listen.  Instead, therefore, she merely said lightly: 

“Yes, he makes a good landlord, for all he declares to the contrary.  Then, too, he has a capable agent.”

“Like Jasper,” put in her companion, trying to keep his eyes away from her pretty, vivacious face.

Lady Constance was silent.  However much she might dislike and distrust Vermont, she never expressed her opinion of him to Adrien.  She therefore turned the subject quickly by inquiring after the next race.

“‘The Brigades’—­in two months’ time,” he replied.

“The ‘King’ will run, I suppose?” she asked.

“Yes, and I shall ride him,” said Adrien quietly.  “After an accident such as has occurred, none shall ride him save myself; then if anything should happen——­”

“Ah! no! no!” cried Lady Constance, her face paling, and her blue eyes full of alarm; “you mustn’t!—­you shan’t!” She stopped short.  “I mean,” she went on, speaking more quietly, “you must think what it would be—­to your father—­and auntie——­”

“And you,” he said eagerly, catching at her hands.  “Would you care, too?”

She gently drew her fingers from his grasp.

“Of course I should,” she replied, in her usual quiet tones.  “Am I not a sort of cousin?”

“Constance,” he broke in passionately, “I have no right to speak to you, I know; but tell me just this, if—­if——­”