It was by pure accident that Claude stumbled across the plot. Featherstone was speaking to Ayscough on the telephone, on the question of the price of Little Badholme. Claude was flabbergasted--L25,000 for a place that was leaky and draughty through half the year, and which showed a tendency to slide seaward! The whole business was disgusting. He waited until his father had finished, and then interrogated him. "Pater, you--you aren't trying to sell this place to Conlan?" Featherstone shrugged his shoulders. "Mr. Conlan approached me on the matter." "But it's not worth that price." The noble lord resented this remark. "Claude, isn't this a matter that concerns Mr. Conlan and me? It's not at all pleasant to find you--eavesdropping." "Eavesdropping--great Scott! You don't mean you think...." Featherstone came up to him. "I didn't mean that. But this is a matter of business. Mr. Conlan wants to buy and I want to sell. He's a perfectly free agent in the matter." He abruptly left the room. Claude felt sick, humiliated. It was all so perfectly clear. Jim knew nothing about English property. It was only natural he should place himself in Featherstone's hands. He determined to put a stop to such a swindle as was contemplated. But his plan to warn Jim was frustrated by the later realization that Jim was madly in love with Angela. This astonishing fact was sufficient to drive everything else from his mind. He had no delusion as far as Angela was concerned. Dozens of men had tried their luck on Angela, and Angela remained as frozen as the North Pole. Poor Jim! He blamed himself for having been instrumental in bringing this meeting about. In her proud heart Angela would merely despise any advances that Jim was foolish enough to make. He watched Jim carefully for the next two days. The evidence thus gained was painful to bear. The honest, magnificent, unsophisticated Jim was torn and tortured by a mad, hopeless love. Claude could stand it no longer. "Jim," he said, "don't think me impertinent. I can't help noticing--you're in love." Jim started and the color flamed up in his cheeks. "Wal." "It's mad, Jim, mad. She has no heart. You don't know her as I do. She's my sister and I love her, but I can't bear to see you living on hopes that are doomed to be fruitless. If you speak of this to her she'll hurt you. She doesn't mean it. It's her temperament. Don't you see that to a girl of Angela's social status a proposal from a man--like you is----" Jim's eyes narrowed. He didn't like this. "Jim," added Claude swiftly, "don't do me an injustice. I'd be damned proud to have you as a brother-in-law. But don't court disappointment and pain by speaking to her----" "Who said I was going to speak?" "I can see it--in your eyes." Jim shrugged his shoulders. "You're right. I am," he jerked out. Claude drew in his breath with a little hiss. Jim suddenly swung round on him.