"It is useless, between us, to dissemble, and I'm not going to try it. I want to know whether Geoffrey Croyden is coming back to Northumberland? You are with him, and should know. You can tell his inclination. You can ask him, if necessary. If he is not coming and there is no one else--won't you tell me where you are? (I don't ask you to reveal his address, you see.) I shall come down--if only for an hour, between trains--and give him his chance. It is radically improper, according to accepted notions--but notions don't bother me, when they stand (as I am sure they do, in this case), in the way of happiness. "Sincerely, "Elaine Cavendish." At dinner, Macloud casually remarked: "I ought to go out to Northumberland, this week, for a short time, won't you go along?" Croyden shook his head. "I'm not going back to Northumberland," he said. "I don't mean to stay!" Macloud interposed. "I'll promise to come back with you in two days at the most." "Yes, I suppose you will!" Croyden smiled. "You can easily find your way back. For me, it's easier to stay away from Northumberland, than to go away from it, _again_." And Macloud, being wise, dropped the conversation, saying only: "Well, I may not have to go." A little later, as he sat in the drawing-room at Carringtons', he broached a matter which had been on his mind for some time--working around to it gradually, with Croyden the burden of their talk. When his opportunity came--as it was bound to do--he took it without hesitation. "You are right," he replied. "Croyden had two reasons for leaving Northumberland: one of them has been eliminated; the other is stronger than ever." She looked at him, shrewdly. "And that other is a woman?" she said. He nodded. "A woman who has plenty of money--more than she can ever spend, indeed." "And in looks?" "The only one who can approach yourself." "Altogether, most desirable!" she laughed. "What was the trouble--wouldn't she have him?" "He didn't ask her." "Useless?" "Anything but useless." "You mean she was willing?" "I think so." "And Croyden?" "More than willing, I take it." "Then, what was the difficulty?" "Her money--she has so much!--So much, that, in comparison, he is a mere pauper:--twenty millions against two hundred thousand." "If she be willing, I can't see why he is shy?" "He says it is all right for a poor girl to marry a rich man, but not for a poor man to marry a rich girl. His idea is, that the husband should be able to maintain his wife according to her condition. To marry else, he says, is giving hostages to fortune, and is derogatory to that mutual respect which should exist between them." "We all give hostages to fortune when we marry!" Miss Carrington exclaimed. "Not all!" replied Macloud, meaningly. She flushed slightly. "What is it you want me to do?" she asked hastily--"or can I do anything?"