He smiled. "Keep still," he said, "and perhaps I'll give you one."

"That's a very old joke," she rebuked sorrowfully. "Oh, I can be quite certain of being bored to death with you. I mustn't consider you for a minute."

"What's to be done about me, then?"

"Oh, you will make up with the girl some day, and then--" she stopped.

"And then?"

"Oh, how you will hate yourself!"

Meanwhile--or later, between church and luncheon--Waltheof, in the billiard-room, was chalking a cue. "It will be a good lesson," he said.

"He needs a shaking up."

"He'll get a shaking up," said the duke. "I say, Nibbetts, won't Carleigh get a shaking up?"

"It's wicked--all of it," declared Kneedrock gruffly. "I've never loved a woman in my life"--which was a lie--"but I've notions about things.

Nina is unreasonable."

"You think so because you've never loved a woman," said Sir George.

"A woman is unreasonable because she is a woman--" began Nibbetts, but Sir George cut in before he could finish:

"And a man's unreasonable because she is a woman, too," he laughed.

"Don't preach, but walk out and find them, if you feel it is really your duty to chaperon your cousin. All I can say is what I've often said before--poor Darling!"

"No, I won't go out and find them," Kneedrock refused, pitching his huge bulk down on the window seat. "It's none of my business."

"More's the pity," was Sir George's comment. "I'll tell you what I think. It ought to be your business. That's what every one of us thinks."

An ugly white look overspread the viscount's rugged visage, and the subject was dropped.

Later, however, in the privacy of his wife's room, the duke said more--much more.

"Doody, it's rotten how they go on here about dear Nina." That was how he began it. He repeated himself a great deal, and he appealed to the d.u.c.h.ess for verification with every other sentence. But his finish was almost impa.s.sioned.

"I'm getting very sick of the whole thing, I'll be dashed if I'm not. Of course she shot her husband, or Kneedrock shot him, and of course Carleigh is in love with his fiancee's mother.

"But I say it's very tiresome to have to hear about 'em all the time.

I'm very tired of hearing of 'em all the time. I say, Doody, you know I'm tired of hearing of 'em all the time. Don't you, Doody?"

"Yes," answered the d.u.c.h.ess, "and I am, too. I'm sure I don't want to hear any more about them now. Do ring the bell for Olivette, and go to your room."

CHAPTER XV

A Last Walk and a Last Appeal

Monday, of course, meant the breaking up of the party and the conclusion of Nina's mission. She had done what she could and she was delighted to think that for once in her misguided career she had actually performed a service not wholly selfish.

As Carleigh emerged from the breakfast-room, where he and his aunt were among the last, Lady Bellingdown slipped her arm through his, saying:

"Well, my dear boy, we've done you good, haven't we?"

He glanced back over his shoulder to indicate whom he had in mind--for Nina had come down but a minute before--last of all--and said, smiling: "She's a wonder."

"Isn't she? Doesn't she say the most startling things? She's a bomb made animate."

"One is always wondering what will come next," he declared. "I'm wondering it just now."

As he proposed it himself, he might very easily have foreseen it without waste of speculation. They took a long walk--the last of their series of long walks.

"And now," said lover to loved as they went at swinging pace through the park, the staghound as usual at their heels, "where do you go next?"

"Carfen," she answered. "Just beyond the border of Carlisle."

"I know them," he announced delightedly. "I'll get myself asked."

But Nina shook her head. "Don't," she adjured. "Because if you do, I'll leave."

He stopped short in his stride. "In Heaven's name, why?" he asked, his astonishment and dismay undisguised.

"Because I will not have you ruined with your fiancee," was her calm answer.

"My dear girl, I have no fiancee. That's all over."

"Oh, no, it isn't."

"Oh, yes, it is."

She freed the hand he had been holding and then slipped it into his again. Then they walked on.

"Love's never over," she observed wisely. "You'll only care the more for her later." Then she raised her eyes and beheld him deeply crimson.

"With me it's all over," he declared in a voice that shook with mingled feelings. "You don't know of what you speak. It couldn't possibly be made up. I couldn't marry her. I couldn't possibly live in the house with--with--" He stopped short.

"It will straighten out," said Nina calmly. "Such things do, you know."

"Not this kind. Wait--look!" He opened his coat, thrust his hand within, and drew a jewel from some hidden pocket. It was a ring which he held out to her.

She took it from him, and her eyes opened very wide. For a brief s.p.a.ce she gazed at him pensively and silently.

"Of what are you thinking?" he asked.