"Oh, you mean my rig-out?" Denis enquired with a feeble pretence at not having understood the meaning of Guy's remarks. "That's nothing. As a matter of fact I hadn't tried these on since they were made, and I was wondering what they were like."

"Oh, tell us what you think of Lord Henry!" Guy pursued after a while.

"What do you?" Denis retorted, endeavouring to show indifference.

"He's rather wonderful," Guy exclaimed.

"What do you mean--wonderful?" the other demanded with an unmistakable sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Well, you know, smart in every sense of the word, brains and everything."

If Guy had deliberately intended to give Denis indigestion he could not have set about his task with greater scientific understanding.

In a moment Miss Mallowcoid appeared. Breakfast to her was an important meal only when she was visiting. At other times she was satisfied with a minute fish-cake, or a mere postage-stamp of thin bacon, particularly when she had to show by example how megalosaurian was the appetite of the frail Mrs. Gerald Tribe. She was quickly followed by Sir Joseph and Mr. and Mrs. Tribe, and a few minutes later by Lord Henry himself.

At the sight of Lord Henry, Denis grew unusually silent and the Tribes exceptionally voluble. Sir Joseph asked the conventional questions of his new guest, and on receiving the customary conventional replies, serenely continued his meal. Miss Mallowcoid, on the other hand, insisted on attending with scrupulous unselfishness to the latest arrival's wants, and encouraging him in every way to partake as plentifully as she herself of the generous board.

Meanwhile covertly and methodically Denis Malster was busy confirming his worst suspicions of this scion of the house of Highbarn, and his final conclusion was that the young man was behaving with deliberate malice.

Clad in a perfect grey flannel suit of graceful design in which even the seams in black thread were made an attractive feature, and with a collar and tie that had evidently been selected with taste, there was yet that character of artless unconsciousness in his attire which gave Lord Henry at once the appearance and the ease, without any of the traces of effort, of a well-groomed man. Denis felt that no one could pertinently have asked Lord Henry whether he was going to be married that day, and yet there was a glamour about his person which was unmistakable.

"There is no means of anticipating the wiles of charlatans," he thought as he finished his breakfast; and he braced himself for a difficult day.

Thus his imagination played with the new element that chance seemed to have dropped in his path, and as he smoked his after-breakfast cigarette on the terrace with Guy Tyrrell he was not in the happiest of moods.

Sir Joseph, the Tribes, Miss Mallowcoid, and Lord Henry were discussing the programme of the day.

"I suppose I had better consult Mrs. Delarayne," said Lord Henry, "before I dispose of any of my time. She will naturally----"

"Oh, don't trouble to do that!" Miss Mallowcoid exclaimed. "You are down here for a rest, and must do just as you like, Lord Henry."

Sir Joseph, who was the only member of the party in Mrs. Delarayne's secret, understood however what the young man meant. He might possibly have to remain with Cleopatra.

"Quite right, Lord Henry," he said. "We really cannot do anything before you see Mrs. Delarayne."

At that moment a thumping noise from the direction of Brineweald announced the usual morning visit of young Stephen Fearwell, and sure enough, up the main drive, at top speed, there appeared the familiar silhouette of the youth on his motor-cycle. This time, however, he did not seem to be alone, fair arms seemed to be clinging to him, and the flutter of a dress and a sun-bonnet seemed outlined at his back.

The party on the terrace concentrated into a group at the top of the steps, and the motor-cycle swung like a rocket round the last bend of the drive.

"Why, if it's not that little terror, Leonetta!" cried Miss Mallowcoid.

Denis Malster made an impulsive movement to descend the steps and checked himself. Never before had Leonetta accompanied Stephen like this. What could it signify?

The cycle stopped, and in a moment the children were running up the steps.

"Peachy has sent me for the morning at least," announced Leonetta, as Sir Joseph greeted her, "and she wants Lord Henry to go to "The Fastness" with Stephen at once, if he doesn't mind."

"Anything wrong?" Sir Joseph demanded.

It was difficult to imagine that such a sunny, happy messenger could bring sad tidings, and Sir Joseph had to smile as he contemplated her.

"I believe Cleo has had another fall, or something," replied the girl.

"Anyhow, Agatha and Vanessa will be here in a minute, and Stephen of course will come back. Peachy and Cleo will stay at home."

Leonetta eyed Lord Henry up and down as she spoke in that solemn searching way in which virgins take stock of men. It was Nature measuring the worth of one of her own products through the medium of another of her own products.

"Am I to go at once?" Lord Henry enquired, glancing for a moment at Leonetta, and then turning to Sir Joseph.

"Yes, please," said Leonetta and Stephen together.

Lord Henry descended the steps while Stephen and Leonetta both assured him that he could make himself quite comfortable on the back of the motor-cycle. It was noticeable, however, that he paid more attention to Stephen than to the girl.

"I can order the car, and we can all go to the beach," said Sir Joseph.

Denis Malster was jubilant. There stood Leonetta, a dream of beauty in her simple cotton dress and sun-bonnet, magnetic in her grace and luxuriant health, and Lord Henry was to be out of the way for at least three hours.

At last the couple on the motor-cycle were ready. "Sorry you're leaving us," cried Sir Joseph. "But we'll see you later."

Leonetta remained at the foot of the steps waving her hand, but Lord Henry took no notice; he merely flourished his hat to Sir Joseph and Miss Mallowcoid on the terrace.

CHAPTER XIII

Mrs. Delarayne, hatless and tearful with impatience, was at the gate waiting for the sound that was to announce the arrival of Lord Henry.

Inside Cleopatra had just recovered from another fainting fit, and Agatha, who was with her, had rendered valuable help. Mrs. Delarayne had never considered her weeks at Brineweald as a source of joy; if this continued, however, they would prove absolutely intolerable.

At last the familiar thumping sound became audible in the distance. Yes, it was that dear boy Stephen, and someone was riding on the pillion-seat of his cycle.

In a moment cyclist and passenger dismounted at Mrs. Delarayne's gate, but the latter alone accompanied the lady into the house.

"Oh, Lord Henry," gasped the widow, "it is really very tiresome. Poor Cleopatra has had another of her attacks, and I thought it would be best if she saw you immediately afterwards. That's why I sent for you in all that hurry."

"I'm afraid the attacks themselves can tell me little," observed Lord Henry gravely. "It really didn't matter when I saw her. However, I might just as well speak to her now."

"Half a minute," whispered Mrs. Delarayne, leaving him in the drawing-room. "I'll go and prepare her." And so saying she vanished into the adjoining apartment, which, as far as Lord Henry was able to tell from a glimpse, appeared to be the billiard-room.

High words seemed to pass between the widow, her daughter, and Agatha; for, although Mrs. Delarayne had closed the door behind her, Lord Henry could distinctly catch snatches of their discussion. It was clear that Cleopatra was resolutely objecting to see him, and that her mother and Agatha were doing their utmost to induce her to alter her mind.

At last Mrs. Delarayne returned.

"Isn't it tiresome," she exclaimed, taking a chair, "now she absolutely refuses to see you!"

"It's not surprising," observed Lord Henry, sitting down beside her.

"Yes, but she must see you; I insist," Mrs. Delarayne pursued.