That was true, true to their disgrace. They both felt the reproach. How were they better than the rest of the neighborhood, who were content to gossip and gape and take the fortunes of the Tristrams as mere matter for their own entertainment? "I've made you look ashamed of yourselves now," he laughed. "Well, I must do the thing myself, I suppose. What a pity Miss Swinkerton isn't here!" Cecily came down. She passed Harry with a rather distant air and took Neeld's arm. "They say dinner's ready," said she. "Mina, will you come with Harry?" Harry sank into the chair opposite Cecily--and opposite the picture of Addie Tristram on the wall. "Well, somehow I've managed to get back here," said he. The shadow had passed from Cecily's face. She looked at him, blushing and laughing. "At a terrible price, poor Harry?" she said. "At a big price," he answered. She looked round at the three. Harry was composed, but there was no mistaking the perturbation of the Imp and Mr Neeld. "A big price?" she asked wonderingly. "Isn't that a queer compliment, Harry?" Then a light seemed to break in on her, and she cried: "You mean the cost of your pride? I should never let that stand between you and me!" "Will you make a note of that admission, Mina?" said Harry with a smile. "Because you didn't say so always, Cecily. Do you recollect what you once said? 'If ever the time comes, I shall remember!' That was what you said." She looked at him with a glance that was suddenly troubled. There seemed a meaning in his words. She pushed back her chair and rose from the table. "I don't want dinner. I'm going into the garden," she said. They sat still as she went out. Harry refolded his napkin and slowly rose to his feet. "I should have liked it better after dinner," he observed. Mina and Mr Neeld sat on. "Are we to dine?" whispered Neeld. There is the body, after all. "Oh, yes, sir," came in Mason's soothing tones over his shoulder. "We never waited for her late Ladyship." And he handed soup. "Really Mason is rather a comfort," thought Mr Neeld. The Imp drank a glass of champagne. XXIX THE CURMUDGEON In his most business-like tones, with no more gesture than a pointing of his finger now and then, or an occasional wave of his hand, Harry detailed the circumstances. He was methodical and accurate; he might have been opening a case in the law-courts, and would have earned a compliment on his lucidity. There was something ludicrous in this treatment of the matter, but he remained very grave, although quite unemotional. "What was my position then?" he asked. "I remembered what you'd said. I saw the pull I'd given you. If I'd told you before, you'd have had nothing to do with me. You'd have taken a tragic delight in going back to your little house. I should have given you your revenge." "So you cheated me? It shows the sort of person you are!" He went on as though he had not heard her indignant ejaculation.