"Two questions," said Mr. Pixley, cutting them in slices with his pince-nez, as though they were to be charged up to his visitor at so much per pound. "There is no reason whatever why Miss Brandt should not have received your letters. There may be the best possible reasons why she should not reply to them." "So far as I have been able to form an opinion of Miss Brandt it is quite unlike her not to have, at all events, acknowledged them." "Ah! Your opportunities have probably been limited, Mr.--er--"--with a glance at the card--"Graeme, and you may possibly be--from your calling upon me I judge you undoubtedly are--ignorant of the facts of the case," and the gold pince-nez hammered that into the stolid young man's head. "Perhaps you would be so good as to enlighten me." "It would perhaps be as well to do so. To be perfectly frank with you, Mr. Graeme, my ward had the very best of reasons for handing your letters to me and not replying to them herself." "Really! I would esteem it a favour, Mr. Pixley, if you would enlighten me further." "Certainly!" with an airy wave of the pince-nez. "I intend to do so. The simple fact of my ward's engagement to my son, and that they are looking forward to the celebration of their marriage in something less than three months, will probably suffice to explain Miss Brandt's disinclination to enter into correspondence with a comparative stranger,"--and the pince-nez shredded Graeme's hopes into little pieces and scattered them about the floor. "Miss Brandt is engaged to your son?" he jerked, feeling not a little foolish, and decidedly downhearted. "As I have informed you. It is a union to which we have been looking hopefully forward for some time past--a most excellent conjunction of hearts and fortunes. My ward possesses some means, as you are doubtless aware,"--with an insolent thrust of the pince-nez at the would-be suitor's honour,--"and my son is also well provided for in that respect." "Then--I am afraid my visit is something in the nature of an intrusion." Mr. Pixley bowed his fullest acquiescence in this very proper estimate of his position, and the pince-nez intimated that the way out lay just behind him and that the sooner he took advantage of it the better. "I can only say, by way of apology," added Graeme, "that I was wholly unaware of what you have just told me. I will wish you good-day, Mr. Pixley." Mr. Pixley and the pince-nez wafted him towards the door, and the lumpy cobbles of the courtyard outside seemed to him, for the moment, absolutely typical of life. He went back home numbed and sore at heart. It was hard to believe this of Margaret Brandt.