Lord Standon turned sharply, and stared at him. He grasped the situation at once, but was still greatly puzzled, for he knew Leroy was but slightly acquainted with Lady Muriel Branton. "Thanks, old man," he returned, rather awkwardly. "But it's a dead secret, really; I suppose Lady Constance told you?" Leroy frowned. "Yes," he said simply, "Why not?" "Oh, no reason at all," said Lord Standon, flushing like a boy; "only it's got to be kept quiet, you know--my affairs are in such a beastly state." "I wonder you----" commenced Leroy. "Dared to ask her," put in Standon, laughing a little confusedly. "Yes, it was a bit of cheek on my part, but 'faint heart never won fair lady,' you know, and by Jove! if I hadn't, some other lucky devil might have slipped in and carried her off by sheer force!" Leroy winced; for he himself would have endeavoured to "slip in and carry her off" had it not been for his friend. "I don't see the need of secrecy," he said coldly. "Have you spoken to her guardian?" meaning, of course, Lord Barminster. Unfortunately, to Lord Standon, being in love, there was only one woman in the world, and therefore only one guardian, and that one, her father, the Earl of Croywood. "Good gracious, no!" he exclaimed. "He's such an old curmudgeon--that until I get over that beastly race----" He broke off, scarlet with confusion. Absorbed in his own affairs, he had completely forgotten that he was speaking to the owner of the unlucky horse. Leroy was pale with anger; the reference to the race annoyed him, but still more the expression of "curmudgeon" as applied to his father. Naturally, if he had stopped to consider, he would have realised that there must be some mistake; for Standon would hardly have spoken thus of Lord Barminster in his son's presence. But what lover ever does use his common sense? He drew himself up sternly, and Standon could have kicked himself for his unfortunate speech. "I don't mean--that is--it's not your fault----" he stammered. "Thank you," said Leroy ironically. "Oh, you know what I mean. Don't pull me up like that, Adrien. I wasn't thinking of its being you--and you know what it is when a fellow's in love with the sweetest, dearest----" Leroy turned sharply. It was more than any one could be expected to bear; insult to his father, blame to his horse, and now praise of the woman he himself loved. "Excuse me, Standon," he interrupted curtly, "I'm afraid I must ask you to spare me your rhapsodies--I am due at the theatre." It was Standon's turn to be offended, and his good-tempered face hardened. "Certainly. Pray accept my apologies for having detained you. Good-night," he said coldly, and before Leroy could even answer, he was gone.