She was not at all pleased when as they drew near to the Burns’ mausoleum they caught sight of Myra Kay. As yet Ralph had made no way at all with this pale, dark-eyed girl, they had scarcely exchanged a dozen words, and her manner was very reserved and distant. All that he knew about her was the little he had gleaned from the men of the company. It was reported that her marriage was to take place in the summer, and that she was engaged to an actor named Brinton who was now in Macneillie’s Company. She had the reputation of being cold, cautious, and conventional, but in comparison with Mrs. Skoot she was so delightful that Ralph felt drawn to her and was chafed by a perfectly clear consciousness that for some reason she disapproved of him. He was pleased when she volunteered a few tepid remarks about Turnerelli’s sculpture, and to Ivy’s disgust he asked her if she would not join them in their walk to Lincluden Abbey. She hesitated for a moment, then with a glance at his open, boyish face seemed suddenly to arrive at some determination more important than that of the mere decision to take a walk. “I will come part of the way with you,” she said. “But since my illness I am not much of a walker. It is one of the few grudges I harbour against Mr. Macneillie.” “You were in his Company?” “Yes, and at Oxford, while playing in an outdoor representation of ‘Midsummer Night’s Dream,’ got soaked to the skin and had to wear the wet clothes. The rest of them escaped with colds but I was laid up for six months. The manager was extremely good to me I must say, and in August I hope to be back again in his Company.” “You like him then as a manager?” “Yes, indeed, there couldn’t be a better. I don’t know how I shall ever endure all these months with the Skoots, and had I known that that scoundrel Dudley was to be in the Company I should never have accepted the engagement.” Ralph raised his eyebrows. “That’s a severe word,” he said. “It’s no more than he deserves,” said Myra Kay, frowning. “I am astonished that you can share rooms with him and make him your friend.” “He is very likely no worse than many others,” said Ralph, nettled by her tone. “No worse!” she said, scornfully. “Is it possible you do not know that he is the wretch who figured in the Houston case? You must remember it--the stir was so great and it is not eighteen months ago.” “I was at school eighteen months ago and never troubled my head with _causes célèbres_.” Myra Kay walked on in silence for a few moments; then she briefly told him the facts of the case and was pleased to see him wince. “The man has been properly punished,” she continued, with satisfaction, “and now no decent manager wall have him--at any rate, till the details of the case are forgotten. He is desperately hard up for money, and every one cuts him. I hope, now that you know all this, you will have no more to say to him.”