I was silent for a moment. "Well, I'm--I'm glad to know it in time," I said, rather more gruffly than was necessary. She smiled too merrily, I thought. "You must not tell any one else about it, however." "I can promise that," I said, a sullen rage in my soul. "Devils could not drag it out of me. Rest easy." It occurred to me afterwards that she laughed rather jerkily, you might say uneasily. At any rate, she turned away and began speaking to Max. "Have you had your breakfast?" I asked stupidly. "No." "Neither have I. Will you join me?" "Isn't it getting to be a habit?" "Breakfast or--you?" "Breakfast _and_ me." "I confess, my dear Countess, that I like you for breakfast," I said gallantly. "That is a real tribute," she said demurely, and took her place beside me. Together we crossed the courtyard. On the steps Colingraft Titus was standing. I uttered an audible groan and winced as if in dire pain. "What is it?" she cried quickly. "Rheumatism," I announced, carefully raising my right arm and affecting an expression of torture. I am not a physical coward, kind reader. The fact that young Mr. Titus carried in his hands a set of formidable looking boxing-gloves did not frighten me. Heaven knows, if it would give him any pleasure to slam me about with a pair of gloves, I am not without manliness and pluck enough to endure physical pain and mental humiliation. It was diplomacy, cunning, astuteness,--whatever you may choose to call it,--that stood between me and a friendly encounter with him. Two minutes' time would serve to convince him that he was my master, and then where would I be? Where would be the prestige I had gained? Where my record as a conqueror? "I must have caught cold in my arms and shoulders," I went on, making worse faces than before as I moved the afflicted parts experimentally. "There!" she exclaimed ruefully. "I _knew_ you would catch cold. Men always do. I'm so sorry." "It's nothing," I made haste to explain:--"that is, nothing serious. I'll get rid of it in no time at all." I calculated for a minute. "A week or ten days at the most. Good morning, Colingraft." "Morning. Hello, sis. Well?" He dangled the gloves before my eyes. My disappointment was quite pathetic. "Tell him," I said to the Countess. "He's all crippled up with rheumatism, Colly," she said. "Put those ugly things away. We're going in to breakfast." He tossed the gloves into a corner of the vestibule. I felt a little ashamed of my subterfuge in the face of his earnest expression of concern. "Tell you what I'll do," he said warmly. "I know how to rub a fellow's muscles--" "Oh, I have a treasure in Britten," said I, hastily. "Thanks, old man. He will work it out of me. Sorry we can't have a go this morning."