“I do wish, Beatrice, you would look at the matter in a sensible light I'm sure I never would ask you to marry a man you could not care for. But Sir Redmond is young, and good-looking, and has birth and breeding, and money--no one can accuse him of being a fortune-hunter, I'm sure. I was asking Richard to-day, and he says Sir Redmond holds a large interest in the Northern Pool, and other English investors pay him a salary, besides, to look after their interests. I wouldn't be surprised if the holdings of both of you would be sufficient to control the business.” Beatrice, not caring anything for business anyway, said nothing. “Any one can see the man's crazy for you. His sister says he never cared for a woman before in his life.” “Of course,” put in Beatrice sarcastically. “His sister followed him down to South Africa, and all around, and is in a position to know.” “Any one can see he isn't a lady's man.” “No--” Beatrice smiled reminiscently; “he certainly isn't.” “And so he's in deadly earnest. And I'm positive he will make you a model husband.” “Only think of having to live, all one's life, with a model husband!” shuddered Beatrice hypocritically. “Be-atrice! And then, it's something to marry a title.” “That's the worst of it,” remarked Beatrice. “Any other girl in America would jump at the chance. I do believe, Beatrice, you are hanging back just to be aggravating. And there's another thing, Beatrice. I don't approve of the way this Keith Cameron hangs around you.” “He doesn't!” denied Beatrice, in an altogether different tone. “Why, mama!” “I don't approve of flirting, Beatrice, and you know it. The way you gadded around over the hills with him--a perfect stranger--was disgraceful; perfectly disgraceful. You don't know any thing about the fellow, whether he's a fit companion or not--a wild, uncouth cowboy--” “He graduated from Yale, a year after Dick. And he was halfback, too.” “That doesn't signify,” said her mother, “a particle. I know Miss Hayes was dreadfully shocked to see you come riding up with him, and Sir Redmond forced to go with Richard, or ride alone.” “Dick is good company,” said Beatrice. “And it was his own fault. I asked him to go with us, when Dick and I left the cattle, and he wouldn't. Dick will tell you the same. And after that I did not see him until just before we--I came home, Really, mama, I can't have a leading-string on Sir Redmond. If he refuses to come with me, I can hardly insist.” “Well, you must have done something. You said something, or did something, to make him very angry. He has not been himself all day. What did you say?” “Dear me, mama, I am not responsible for all Sir Redmond's ill-humor.” “I did not ask you that, Beatrice.” Beatrice thumped her pillow again. “I don't remember anything very dreadful, mama. I--I think he has indigestion.”