She flitted away across the lawn, jingling the money in her hand. At the gate she turned and waved her hand. Juggernaut's eyes were fixed upon her, but he did not appear to observe her salutation. Probably he was in a brown study about something. Daphne was half-way down to the Den before it occurred to her that it would have been a graceful act--not to say the barest civility--to invite the donor of the feast to come and be present thereat. But she did not go back. "It would bore him so, poor dear!" she said to herself; "and--and us, too!" * * * * * Next day they were married. BOOK TWO. FLICKERINGS. CHAPTER NINE. A HORSE TO THE WATER. "And how is her ladyship?" inquired Mrs Carfrae. "Her ladyship," replied Sir John Carr, "is enjoying life. What good bread-and-butter you always keep." They were sitting in Mrs Carfrae's tiny drawing-room in Hill Street. Mrs Carfrae was a little old lady in a wheeled chair. Her face was comparatively youthful, but her hair was snowy white. She spoke with what English people, to whom the pure Highland Scots of Inverness and the guttural raucousness of Glasgow are as one, term "a Scotch accent." "I am glad you like my bread-and-butter," she said; "but I fancy you get as good at your wife's tea-table." "I don't often see my wife's tea-table," confessed Juggernaut. "She is out a good deal, and as a rule it is more convenient for me to have my tea sent into my study." "Where you grumble at it, I'll be bound. I ken husbands. So her ladyship is out a good deal? Well do I mind the first time I caught her in, the besom! That was nearly three years ago. I am not a payer of calls, as you know; but I felt that I must be the very first to greet your wife, Johnny boy. So the day after I knew you had settled in, I had myself bundled into the carriage, and off I went to Grosvenor Street. I told Maxwell to ring the bell and inquire if her ladyship was at home. The door was thrown open immediately--rather prematurely, in fact. I heard a sound like the cheep of a frightened mouse, and I saw a grand silk skirt and a pair of ankles scuttering up the staircase. I knew fine what had happened. I was her first caller: and though the child was sitting in her new drawing-room waiting for me and those like me, her courage had failed at the sound of the bell, and she was galloping up the stair out of the way when the man opened the door. Poor lassie! I did exactly the same thing at her age." "Did you go in?"