"Very likely. He has an immense circle of friends. He's quite a good sort," said Max. "And where do they live?" asked Olga, with interest. "In Suffolk chiefly. Mordaunt bought our old home and gave it to Chris--my sister--when they married. My elder brother manages the estate for him." "How nice!" said Olga. "And what is your sister like?" Max smiled. "She is my twin," he said. "Oh! Like you then?" Olga looked slightly disappointed. Max laughed. "Not in the least. Can you imagine a woman like me? I can't. She has red hair or something very near it. And there the resemblance stops. I'll take you to see her some day--if you'll come." "Thank you," said Olga guardedly. "Don't mention it!" said Max. "There are two kiddies also--a boy and a girl. It's quite a domestic establishment. I often go there when I want a rest. My brother-in-law is good enough to keep special rooms for the three of us." "Is there another of you then?" asked Olga. "Yes, another brother--Noel. By the way, he won't be going there again at present, for he sailed for Bombay to join his regiment a year ago. That's the sum complete of us." Max straightened himself with a faintly ironical smile. "We are a fairly respectable family nowadays," he observed, "thanks to Mordaunt who has a reputation to think of. But we are boring Miss Campion to extinction. Can't we talk of something more amusing?" Violet threw back her head with a restless movement, but she did not meet his eyes. "I am accustomed to amusing myself," she said. He stooped to pick up a marker that had fallen from her book. "It is a useful accomplishment," he observed, as he handed it to her, "for those who have time to cultivate it." She raised her arms with the careless, unstudied grace of a wild creature. Her eyes were veiled. "I assure you it is far more satisfying than tilting at windmills," she said. Max straightened himself. There seemed to Olga something pitiless about him, a deadliness of purpose that made him cruel. And in that moment she became aware of a strong antagonism between these two that almost amounted to open hostility. "A matter of opinion," said Max. "I suppose we each of us have our patent method of killing time." Violet uttered an indolent laugh. "Yours is a very strenuous one," she observed. "I believe you imagine yourself invincible in your own particular line, don't you?" "Not at present," said Max, with his twisted smile. She laughed again, mockingly. "Irresistible then, shall we say?" He had turned to go, but he paused at the question and looked back at her, grimly ironical. Olga had a feeling that the green eyes comprehended her also. "No," he said, with extreme deliberation. "Not even that. But--since you ask me--the odds are certainly very greatly in my favour." And with that he turned on his heel, still smiling, and sauntered away. As he went, Violet stooped towards Olga with a face gone suddenly white, and grasped her arm.