“Did he tell you?” She fetched a long sigh. “Yes; I was amazed. I suppose it was very complimentary, but why did he do it in such a great hurry, do you think?” Dick took a cigarette from the box she offered him and lit it before he replied. “That is exactly what I’ve come to discover,” he said. “I feel rather like a grand inquisitor, but I must know.” “And I can’t tell you.” She was acting. He knew that her one object was to turn him from an interview with her brother, and she in turn knew that her efforts would be in vain. “You had no hint of this precious proposal in advance? Arthur told you nothing?” “No; Arthur couldn’t possibly have known. He told me that Mr. Gilder wanted us to see his new flat, and although it was a great bore going out to tea with somebody one doesn’t know, I went----” “To oblige Arthur, of course?” “No,” she insisted; “you must credit me with a reasonable amount of feminine curiosity. Bachelors’ establishments intrigue me. Your one drawback, from my point of view, is that you’ve only a poky little office and, I presume, a wretched little servant’s bedroom.” “For a second son I’m rather well off,” said Dick with a quizzical smile. “You are sure Arthur didn’t give you any forewarning of this proposal?” “Absolutely sure. He was as much astonished as I was.” “Have you discussed it with him?” he asked quickly. She hesitated. “Yes, I spoke about it in the car on the way down, and Arthur was rather--astonished.” “Only astonished--not furious?” “He may have been furious, too. Arthur doesn’t carry his heart on his sleeve.” “I should imagine not,” said Dick drily, and then: “Will you ask him if I can see him for five minutes?” She looked at him with troubled eyes. “You’re not going to quarrel, are you, Dick?” He shook his head. “No, I’m going to ask him a question or two. You realize that I’m entitled to know.” “Why are you ‘entitled’?” “Don’t you think I am?” he asked gently. Her eyes went up to his for a second, and then dropped, as she read something there that thrilled and hurt her. Without a word she went out into the hall and knocked at Arthur’s door. “What does he want? I can’t be bothered to-night,” said Arthur Gwyn fretfully. “What a fellow he is for interrupting people when they’re busy!” “I think you’d better see him, Arthur,” she said, and added: “And get it over.” He shot a quick glance at her. “What do you mean--get what over?” he asked. “Whatever there is to get over,” said Leslie quietly. Arthur looked down at the picturesque confusion of papers that covered his library table. “All right, shoot him in,” he said ungraciously. XVII He did not attempt to rise from his chair when Dick entered, closing the door behind him. “Sit down, will you, Alford? Leslie tells me you want to see me.” “Leslie need not have given you that message. I’d already told you this afternoon that I would come to you for an explanation.” “Of what?”