"I was," insisted Westguard sulkily; "and I proved myself an ass by saying so to my aunt. Why in Heaven's name I was idiot enough to go and tell her, I don't know. Perhaps I had a vague idea that she would be so delighted that she'd give me several tons of helpful advice." "Did she?" "_Did_ she! She came back at me with Chrysos Lacy, I tell you! And when I merely smiled and attempted to waive away the suggestion, she flew into a passion, called me down, cursed me out--you know her language isn't always in good taste--and then she ordered me to keep away from Mrs. Leeds--as though I ever hung around any woman's skirts! I'm no Squire of Dames. I tell you, Rix, I was mad clear through. So I told her that I'd marry Mrs. Leeds the first chance I got----" "Don't talk about her that way," remonstrated Quarren pleasantly. "About who? My aunt?" "I didn't mean your aunt?" "Oh. About Mrs. Leeds. Why not? She's the most attractive woman I ever met----" "Very well. But don't talk about marrying her--as though you had merely to suggest it to her. You know, after all, Mrs. Leeds may have ideas of her own." "Probably she has," admitted Westguard, sulkily. "I don't imagine she'd care for a man of my sort. Why do you suppose she went off on that cruise with Langly Sprowl?" Quarren said, gravely: "I have no idea what reasons Mrs. Leeds has for doing anything." "You correspond." "Who said so?" "My aunt." Quarren flushed up, but said nothing. Westguard, oblivious of his annoyance, and enveloped in a spreading cloud of tobacco, went on: "Of course if _you_ don't know, _I_ don't. But, by the same token, my aunt was in a towering rage when she heard that Langly had Mrs. Leeds aboard the _Yulan_." "What!" said the other, sharply. "She swore like a trooper, and called Langly all kinds of impolite names. Said she'd trim him if he ever tried any of his tricks around Mrs. Leeds----" "What tricks? What does she mean by tricks?" "Oh, I suppose she meant any of his blackguardly philandering. There isn't a woman living on whom he is afraid to try his hatchet-faced blandishments." Quarren dropped back into the depths of his arm-chair. Presently his rigid muscles relaxed. He said coolly: "I don't think Langly Sprowl is likely to misunderstand Mrs. Leeds." "That depends," said Westguard. "He's a rotten specimen, even if he is my cousin. And he knows I think so." A few minutes later O'Hara sauntered in. He had been riding in the Park and his boots and spurs were shockingly muddy. "Who is this Sir Charles Mallison, anyway?" he asked, using the decanter and then squirting his glass full of carbonic. "Is it true that he's goin' to marry that charmin' Mrs. Leeds? I'll break his bally Sassenach head for him! I'll----" "The rumour was contradicted in this morning's paper," said Quarren coldly.