Accordingly he disguised his feelings and the alertness with which he waited for an opening to assert his powers of fascination, making himself the while as agreeable and attentive to the astutely meandering peeress as the nature of her society talk permitted. "Lord Quorn and dear Ulrica seem to have taken quite a fancy to one another," she remarked one afternoon, tactfully leading the way so as to give a wide berth to a plantation of rhododendrons in the midst of which she had reason to suspect the other pair of promenaders was lingering. "Don't you think so, Mr. Gage?" "Looks like it," answered Peckover with a sardonic curl of the lip. "You are his great friend. He would naturally confide in you," observed the lady with a pointed invitation to betray the said confidence. "Oh, yes. He is very far gone," was the somewhat ill-humoured reply. "No need for him to mention it, so long as I retain my eyesight." "I am inclined to think," Lady Ormstork observed meditatively, "that the alliance would not be at all a bad thing." "No?" Peckover, smarting under his confederate's good fortune, would not commit himself to an opinion. "Don't you think so?" the dowager asked suavely. "I don't blame old Quorn," Peckover replied, rather crudely. "As to whether Ul--Miss Buffkin might not do better is a matter of opinion." "Possibly she might; or she might do worse," was the sage response. "After all, Quorn is a charming fellow." "Oh, yes," his friend assented in a tone so warped that it seemed to signify, "Oh, no." "It's a fine old title," said the lady reflectively. "Title's all right," he agreed equivocally. "Undeniable," Lady Ormstork maintained. "But of course, my dear Mr. Gage, you understand that advantage would weigh nothing with me if Quorn were not genuinely fond of Ulrica." "Just so," responded Peckover with a wink at a passing swallow. "Naturally," she pursued, "you will see my position is a somewhat delicate one. It is on that account, my dear Mr. Gage, that I make no scruple in asking you, a clever man of the world--if I may call you so----" "Oh, don't mention it," he replied glibly. "I'm asking you not to let me be in the dark as to your friend's real feelings and intentions. For if I were sure that Quorn had no idea of proposing I should consider it my duty to take Ulrica away from here at once." "He has not expressed any such intention to me," Peckover replied, brightening a little. "But surely you think he will, he must?" demanded the lady anxiously. "Yes, he should by rights," Peckover agreed. "But he may not be a marrying man." Lady Ormstork looked scandalized. "Every man is a marrying man when he meets a girl like Ulrica. Besides, it is the duty of every peer to marry, or what will become of our old nobility? Heaven only knows to whom, as matters stand, the Quorn title will go next."