wrecked mariner scale its forbidding face. Yes, Houston had really been invaluable during an exhausting year, and when now he proposed this yachting trip she welcomed the project. "I think it would be good for Clarehaven to get him away from England for a while--to give him a change of air and scene. We'll lure him with the promise of a few days at Monte Carlo, and something will happen to make it impossible to go near Monte Carlo, eh? A nice, quiet little party. I have cabins for eight guests. Three hundred ton gross. Nothing extravagant as a yacht goes." "And what do you call her? _The Chimpanzee?_" asked Dorothy, with a smile. "No, no, no," he replied. "_The Whirligig._ A good name for a small yacht, don't you think?" "Tell me," said Dorothy, earnestly. "Why did you call your horse Chimpanzee? You know, when I first heard it, I felt you were still brooding over that stupid business in those flats. What were they called?" "Lauriston Mansions." "Ah, you haven't forgotten the name. I had. But what centuries ago all that seems." "Does it?" "To me, oh, centuries!" she exclaimed, vehemently. Houston's eyes narrowed, as if he were seeking to bring that far-off scene into focus with the present. "I oughtn't to have reminded you of it," said Dorothy, lightly. "It was tactless of me." "Not at all," said Houston. "Besides, contemporary with that there are many pleasant hours to remember" ... he hesitated for a second and blew out the end of the sentence in a puff of cigarette smoke ... "with you." "Yes, I have often wondered why you were so kind to me. I think I must have been very tiresome in those days." "On the contrary, you were the loveliest girl in London." "Girl," Dorothy half sighed. "Come, my dear Lady Clarehaven." Was he mocking her with the title? "My dear Lady Clarehaven," he repeated, with the least trace of emphasis upon the conventional epithet. "You don't expect me to be so bold as to say what you are now?" For one moment he opened wide his dark eyes, and in that moment Dorothy decided that the party on the yacht should include the dowager and Bella. Simultaneously with this decision she was saying, with a laugh of affected dismay, "Oh no, please, Mr. Houston." Tony was not at first in favor of the proposed trip, and pleaded that he wanted to see how his yearlings wintered; but Houston insisted that Starkey would look after them better without being worried by the owner. Then Tony urged the claims of pheasants. He had neglected his pheasants of late, and it would be a pity to let the Clare coverts alone for another year. "Besides, I ought to look after the property," he added. Dorothy had heard this declaration of duty urged too often to be taken in by it any longer. A week in Devonshire would cure Tony of a landowner's anxiety whether about his pheasants or his peasants; after that he would discover in his bland way that London was more convenient than the country.