Mrs. Krill still continued to smile in her placid way, but she was rather nonplussed all the same. From the appearance of Beecot, she had argued that he was one of those many men she could twist round her finger. But he seemed to be less easily guided than she expected, and for the moment she was silent, letting her hard eyes wander towards the card-table, round which sat the four playing an eager and engrossing game of bridge. "You don't approve of that perhaps?" "No," said Paul, calmly, "I certainly do not." "Are you a Puritan may I ask?" Beecot shook his head and laughed. "I am a simple man, who tries to do his duty in this world," said he, "and who very often finds it difficult to do that same duty." "How do you define duty, Mr. Beecot?" "We are becoming ethical," said Paul, with a smile. "I don't know that I am prepared with an answer at present." "Then the next time we meet. For I hope," said Mrs. Krill, smoothing her face to a smile--it had grown rather sombre--"that we shall often meet again. You must come and see us. We have taken a house in Kensington." "Chosen by Mr. Hay?" "Yes! He is our mentor in London Society. I don't think," added Mrs. Krill, studying his face, "that you like Mr. Hay." "As I am Mr. Hay's guest," said Paul, dryly, "that is rather an unkind question to ask." "I asked no question. I simply make a statement." Beecot found the conversation rather embarrassing. In place of his pumping Mrs. Krill, she was trying to pump him, which reversal of his design he by no means approved of. He changed the subject of conversation by drawing a powerfully attractive red herring across the trail. "You wish to speak to me about Miss Norman," he remarked. "I do," answered Mrs. Krill, who saw through his design, "but apparently that subject is as distasteful as a discussion about Mr. Hay." "Both subjects are rather personal, I admit, Mrs. Krill. However, if you have anything to tell me, which you would like Miss Norman to hear, I am willing to listen." "Ah! Now you are more reasonable," she answered in a pleased tone. "It is simply this, Mr. Beecot: I am very sorry for the girl. Through no fault of her own, she is placed in a difficult position. I cannot give her a name, since her father sinned against her as he sinned in another way against me, but I can--through my daughter, who is guided by me--give her an income. It does not seem right that I should have all this money--" "That your daughter should have all this money," interpolated Beecot. "My daughter and I are one," replied Mrs. Krill, calmly; "when I speak for myself, I speak for her. But, as I say, it doesn't seem right we should be in affluence and Miss Norman in poverty. So I propose to allow her five hundred a year--on conditions. Will she accept, do you think, Mr. Beecot?" "I should think her acceptance would depend upon the conditions."