Yes, Captain Murchison would welcome a game of bridge, anything as a relief to this vulgarian's conversation. They played for over two hours, Murchison keenly alert from certain suspicions that had been forming in his mind. At present there was no foundation for these vague suspicions. They played for small stakes, but the visitors rose up the winners, not by a great amount, but still winners. It was a fine night, the two men walked back to their quarters. "How did you get on with the charmer? I saw you seemed very confidential together," asked the older man. "Splendidly, old chap. She told me a lot about her history." Pomfret related all he had been told in full. "And how did you get on with the brother?" "Don't ask me," replied Hugh with a groan. "He's the most insufferable creature I ever came across. I don't really think I can go there again. At the beginning of the evening he started fairly well, but later he reverted to type." "Well, I may as well tell you straight, I shall. The next time we go I'll take a share of the brother." When Pomfret spoke in that tone he meant what he said, and Hugh knew he would have his own wilful way. There was one piece of information which the young subaltern had not imparted to his friend. It was this--that after much pressing, and more than one refusal, Miss Burton had agreed to meet him to-morrow afternoon at a very sequestered spot about a mile and a half from Blankfield, with the view of pursuing their acquaintance. CHAPTER FIVE. From the night of that dinner-party Murchison noted a subtle difference in his young friend's demeanour. Pomfret had always been a harum-scarum sort of young fellow, accustomed to follow erratic and injudicious impulses, not absolutely devoid of brains of a certain order, but of imperfect and ill-balanced mentality. But in his wildest escapades he had always been frank and above-board. And he was ever the first, when he had overstepped the border-line, to admit that he was in the wrong. And on such occasions, far from justifying his exploits, he had been ready to deplore them. But his frankness seemed to have departed from that night. He seemed rather to avoid than seek the society of his old friend and mentor. When Hugh brought up the subject of the Burtons, Pomfret seemed anxious to avoid it, to say as little as possible. He seemed to shut himself up within his own soul. Hugh, of course, was profoundly uneasy. Such a transparent creature as Pomfret would not be likely to retire within his own shell unless there were cogent reasons for the withdrawal. And the reasons were inspired by the attractive personality of the fascinating siren at Rosemount, the charming young woman who explained the presence of an undesirable brother by the narrative of her father's first unfortunate marriage.