Mr. Delane sat down next to Miss Fane, and noticed, even in his perturbation, that his neighbor was a remarkably pretty girl, with fair hair clustering in a thick mass on the nape of her neck, and large blue eyes which left gazing on Dale Bannister when their owner turned to greet him. Mr. Delane would have enjoyed talking to her, had not his soul been vexed at the presence of the three Denborough men. One did not expect to meet the tradesmen of the town; and what business had the Doctor there? To spend Sunday in that fashion would not increase his popularity or his practice. And then that nonsense about the wreath! How undignified it was! it was even worse than yelling out Nihilistic verses by way of Sabbath amusement. "I shall get away as soon as I can," he thought, "and I shall say a word to the Doctor." He was called from his meditations by Miss Fane. She sat in a low chair with her feet on a stool, and now, tilting the chair back, she fixed her eyes on Mr. Delane, and asked: "Are you shocked?" No man likes to admit that he is shocked. "I am not, but many people would be." "I suppose you don't like meeting those men?" "Hedger is an honest man in his way of life. I have no great opinion of Johnstone." "This is your house, isn't it?" "Yes." "All the houses about here are yours, aren't they?" "Most of them are, Miss Fane." "Then you are a great man?" The question was put so simply that Mr. Delane could not suspect a sarcastic intent. "Only locally," he answered, smiling. "Have you any daughters?" she asked. "Yes; one." "What is she like?" "Fancy asking her father! I think Janet a beauty." "Fair or dark?" "Dark." "Dale likes dark girls. Tall or short?" "Tall." "Good eyes?" "I like them." "Oh, that'll do. Dale will like her;" and Miss Fane nodded reassuringly. Mr. Delane had not the heart to intimate his indifference to Dale Bannister's opinion of his daughter. "Do you know this country?" he asked, by way of conversation. "We've only been here a week, but we've ridden a good deal. We hold Dale on, you know." "You are on a visit to Mr. Bannister?" "Oh, yes, mother and I are here." Mr. Delane could not help wondering whether their presence was such a matter of course as her tone implied, but before he could probe the matter further, he heard Dale exclaim: "Oh, it's a wretched thing! Read it yourself, Roberts." "Mount him on the rostrum," cried the young man who had been presented to Mr. Delane as Arthur Angell, and who had hitherto been engaged in an animated discussion with the Doctor. Laughing, and only half resisting, the Doctor allowing himself to be hoisted on to the billiard-table, sat down, and announced in a loud voice: "'Blood for Blood': by Dale Bannister."