Violet Wayne saw the gleam in Nettie's eyes, and noticed the faint ring in her voice as she said, "There are not many men who could lead the Sin Verguenza, but you would understand what I mean if you had seen him. He was ragged and very weary, and had been hurt in the fighting, but he sat there keeping himself awake, with his rifle across his knees, and every time I looked at his face it rea.s.sured me. It was haggard, but it was grim and strong-and I knew that man would have to be torn to pieces before any harm could come to me. He was keeping vigil with something entrusted to him which he would guard with his life-and that, I think, is the fancy that stirs one when one looks at your marble knight."

Hester smiled as she admitted that this was probably what the sculptor had wished to express, but it was in Violet Wayne's eyes that Nettie saw the most complete comprehension.

"That man almost deserved so stanch a champion," said Tony. "Eventually your father found you?"

"Yes," said Nettie. "The Sin Verguenza marched out in the early morning."

Then there was silence until Tony rose languidly. "I think I'll go and bring some more cake," he said. "You sit still, Hester. I'll ask Mrs.

Grantly for it."

Hester Earle laughed. "She is out. Perhaps you had better show him where it is, Violet."

The two who were left were silent for awhile, and then Hester Earle smiled at her companion as she said, "You wanted to see Tony Palliser."

Nettie glanced suggestively towards Tony, who was then coming back across the lawn, carrying a tray.

"There is no reason why he should not do that kind of thing-but the trouble is that it seems quite natural to him, as though it was what he was meant to do," she said.

"Don't you think he could do anything else?"

Nettie appeared reflective. "It strikes me he wouldn't want to."

"Tony is a very good fellow," said Hester. "He has never done an ungraceful thing."

"Well," said Nettie, "I expect that is just what is wrong with him. It seems to me that the men who do what is worth doing can't always be graceful. The knight in the chancel had his helmet beaten in, while I fancy his mail was battered and dusty, and if the great glittering angel waited for the Palliser who was shot in Africa it wasn't because he carried tea trays prettily."

"And yet Violet, who expects a good deal, is content with him."

"Well," said Nettie gravely, "I'm almost afraid she's giving herself away. I have seen the man who would have suited her-and he was a ragged leader of the Sin Verguenza."

"Had that man no taste?" asked Hester with a little laugh.

Nettie glanced down at the white hand she moved a little so that there was a flash from the ring. "That was there already. It was a man of the same kind who put it on."

Tony and Violet Wayne came up just then, and when they sat down Hester turned to the man. "We are getting up a concert in the Darsley a.s.sembly rooms for the sewing guild," she said. "We are, as usual, short of money. You will bring your banjo, and sing a c.o.o.n song."

"It's too hot," said Tony. "Besides, folks expect a decorum I haven't been quite accustomed to from me now, and I'm not going to black my face for anybody. I would a good deal sooner give you the money."

"That's very like you, Tony, but it's too easy, though we will take the money too. It's a good cause, or it would not be in difficulties. You will come and sing."

Tony made a gesture of resignation. "Well," he said "it would take too much trouble to convince you that you had better get somebody else, and, anyway, I can have a cold."

Then the conversation turned on other topics until Tony and Violet took their leave, but when she shook hands with him Hester reminded Tony of his promise. It was, however, almost a month later when he was called upon to keep it and finding no excuse available drove into the neighboring town one evening. He was welcomed somewhat effusively when he entered an ante-room of the a.s.sembly hall, and then taken to a place that had been kept for him beside Violet and her mother. The concert very much resembled others of the kind, and neither Tony nor his companions paid much attention to the music until Mrs. Wayne looked up from her programme.

"Therese Clavier. Costume dance!" she said. "No doubt they called it that to pacify the vicar. Well, she is pretty, if somewhat elaborately got up. Doesn't she remind you of somebody, Violet?"

Tony glanced at the stage, and gasped. A girl with dark hair in voluminous flimsy draperies came on with a curtsey and a smile, and a little chill ran through him before he heard Violet's answer.

"Lucy Davidson. But of course it can't be she," she said. "This woman is older and has darker hair, though that, perhaps, does not count for very much, while Lucy could never have acquired her confidence."

Tony said nothing. He was staring across the rows of heads and watching the girl. She appeared older, bolder, and harder than Lucy Davidson had done, but the likeness was still unpleasantly suggestive. She danced well, but it was not the graceful posing or the swift folding and flowing of light draperies that held Tony's attention. His eyes were fixed upon the smiling face, and he scarcely heard the thunder of applause or Mrs. Wayne's voice in the silence that followed it.

"Effective, and yet n.o.body could take exception to it," she said. "But don't you come on next, Tony?"

Tony, who had not remembered it, stood up suddenly, knocking down the hat of a man beside him, and trod upon the girl's dress as he pa.s.sed.

She glanced up at him sharply, for he was seldom awkward in his movements, but he was looking another way. The audience was also getting impatient, and there was a clapping of hands and stamping of feet before he appeared upon the stage. Then he sat down fingering his banjo pegs, and twice asked the accompanist for a note on the piano.

"Any other man would have done that before," said Mrs. Wayne. "Still, I suppose Tony cannot help it, and he seems contented now."

There was a tinkle from the banjo followed by a chord on the piano, but Tony did not face the audience until the introduction had dragged through. Then Violet noticed that his voice, which was a sweet tenor, was not so clear as usual, and the silence of the piano emphasized his feebler touch on the strings. Still, Tony sang such songs as usually go with the banjo well, for the mingling of faint pathos and mild burlesque was within his grasp, which was, perhaps, not without its significance, and n.o.body appeared to find any fault with the performance. There was, in fact, enthusiastic applause, though Violet was glad when Tony persisted in leaving the stage, and her mother glanced at her.

"I have heard Tony put much more spirit into that song," she said.

Tony in the meanwhile was endeavoring to make his way quietly through the green-room when one of the committee touched his shoulder.

"Can't you spare us a few minutes?" he said. "Miss Clavier seemed to like your singing, and I think she would be pleased if you noticed her.

When she heard it was a charity she came down for half her usual fee."

Tony was not grateful to the man who had detained him, and could it have been done without exciting comment would have shaken off his grasp. As it was, however, there was no avoiding the introduction, and he suffered himself to be led forward with unpleasant misgivings. Miss Clavier made him a somewhat dignified bow, but she also made room for him beside her, while something in her dark eyes warned Tony that it would be wise of him to accept the unspoken invitation. He sat down, wondering what she wanted, until she smiled at him.

"There are coffee and ices in the other room, Tony," she said. "Will you take me there?"

The man realized that this mode of address had its significance, for it had been Mr. Palliser in the old days; but he rose gravely and held out his arm, knowing that what he did would not pa.s.s without comment. The feeling was also warranted, for one of the men who watched them pa.s.s out into the corridor smiled as he turned to his companion.

"Tony seems bent on doing rather more than was expected of him," he said. "No doubt she knows his standing in the neighborhood, and intends this as a delicate compliment to one or two of our lady amateurs who were not exactly pleasant to her. It's quite certain she can't be hungry."

As it happened, there was n.o.body but the attendant in the buffet when they reached it, and Lucy Davidson flung herself down with a curious, lithe gracefulness in a big chair in a corner.

"Bring me some coffee for the look of the thing," she said.

Tony did it, and then stood beside her while she toyed with her cup.

Lucy Davidson was distinctly pretty in spite of her get up, but it was unpleasantly evident to her companion that she was not the girl he had flirted with. She seemed to have changed into a capable, determined woman, and there was something that suggested imperiousness in her dark eyes when she looked up at him.

"I want to know why you brought me here," he said.

The girl laughed. "That wasn't civil, Tony. You should have let me think you came because you wanted to."

"I didn't," said Tony doggedly. "Nor can I stay here long. Don't you know that some of these people might recognize you?"

"I don't see why that should worry me, though I don't think they will.

They are Darsley folk, and I fancy I have changed. You are going to be married I hear!"

Tony set his lips as he saw the mocking smile in his companion's face.

"Yes," he said. "We may as well talk plainly. You know of no reason why I shouldn't."

Lucy Davidson made a little reproachful gesture. "Tony," she said, "have I objected?"