"What on earth are you driving at?" "If there's one thing I hate more than another, it's a narrative; but I see I'm in for it. Sit still and hold your tongue till I'm through with it." Eugene obeyed implicitly; and Ayre, not without honest pride, recounted his Baden triumph. "And unless she's bolder than I think, you'll find a letter to that effect." Eugene sat very quiet. "Well, you don't seem overpleased, after all. Wasn't I right?" "Quite right, old fellow. But, I say, is she in love with Haddington?" "Ah, there's your beastly vanity? I think she is rather, you know, or she'd never have given herself away so." "Rum taste!" said Eugene, whose relief at his freedom was tempered by annoyance at Kate's insensibility. "But I'm awfully obliged. And, by Jove, Ayre, it's new life to me!" "I thought so." Eugene had got over his annoyance. A sudden thought seemed to strike him. "I say, does Claudia know?" "Rickmansworth's sure to have told her on the spot. She must have known it a month; and what's more, she must think you've known it a month." "Inference that the sooner I show up the better." "Exactly. What, are you off now? Do you know where she is?" "I shall send a wire to Territon Park. Rick's sure to be there if she isn't, and I'll go down and find out about it." "Wait a minute, will you? Have you heard from your friend Stafford lately?" A shadow fell on Eugene's face. "No. But that's over. Must be, or he'd never have bolted from Millstead." Ayre was silent a moment. Morewood's letter told him that Stafford had set out to go to Claudia. What if he and Eugene met? Ayre had not much faith in the power of friendship under such circumstances. "I think, on the whole, that I'd better show you a letter I've had," he said. "Mind you, I take no responsibility for what you do." "Nobody wants you to," said Eugene, with a smile. "We all understand that's your position." Ayre flung the letter over to him and he read it. "Oh, by Jove, this is the devil!" he exclaimed, jumping off the writing-table, where he had seated himself. "So Morewood seems to think." "Poor old fellow! I say, what shall I do? Poor old Stafford! Fancy his cutting up like this." "It's kind of you to pity him." "What do you mean? I say, Ayre, you don't think there is anything in it?" "Anything in it?" "You don't think there's any chance that Claudia likes him?" "Haven't an idea one way or the other," said Ayre rather disingenuously. Eugene looked very perturbed. "You see," continued Ayre, "it's pretty cool of you to assume the girl is in love with you when she knew you were engaged to somebody else up to a month ago." "Oh, damn it, yes!" groaned Eugene; "but she knew old Stafford had sworn not to marry anybody." "And she knew--of course she knew--you both wanted to marry her. I wonder what she thought of both of you!" "She never had any idea of the sort about him. About me she may have had an inkling." "Just an inkling, perhaps," assented Sir Roderick.