"If so, you have the advantage of me, sir; I cannot say yours is familiar to me. It's quite possible, though, we may have come across each other at the Cape." "I was never at the Cape," replied Major Dundas bluntly. "Then I fear our acquaintance must date from to-day, Major, for I've been out there for about fifteen years, and have only just got back. I'm sorry." Then he turned towards Miriam. "Good-bye, Mrs. Arkel," he said, "I'm afraid I must be going now. I have to lunch with some people a little way out, and I have not much more than time to get there. I'll wish you good-day, Major Dundas." "I must let you out, Mr. Maxwell; my maid-of-all-work is hardly presentable, I----" "Oh, please don't trouble----" In the passage she whispered hurriedly in his ear, "Do you know him?" "No, not to my knowledge--seems to know me though!" "Where can I find you if necessary?" "Mother Mandarin's." "Still at that loathsome place? Do go to a decent hotel!" "I am at one, thank you; but Mother M.'s will be sufficient address for you. I shan't come here again. Good-bye." In the drawing-room the Major, looking out of the window and twisting his moustache, was indulging in a brown study. "I've met that man before, or I'm a Dutchman," he mumbled. "'Tisn't a face I should be likely to forget--that red hair and moustache, and those shifty, ferrety eyes; and that scar on the forehead too--that fixes it. Where the deuce was it? Strange I can't place the man for the moment." His soliloquy was interrupted by the return of Miriam. He did not think it necessary to make any mention to her of what was in his mind. She took her seat beside him and settled down for a chat. It was the first time he had been to see her since her marriage. But he felt in nowise embarrassed, and the pleasure he had always taken in her society came back strongly upon him. It had not taken him many months of married life to discover that _he_ had drawn blank in the matrimonial lottery. And he wondered whether she had been more fortunate. He rather fancied not. He was well aware that he had been caught on the rebound by Mistress Hilda--in fact, that he had let himself go, caring but little with what result. As lord of the manor it was in every way more convenient that he should be married, and although he was by no manner of means a selfish man, his own convenience counted for a good deal with the Major. He had always been accustomed to take life easily. The Manor House and everything with it had come to him most unexpectedly, and more or less it had forced him into matrimony. Since he could not have the wife of his choice, the next best thing he thought was to be the man of his wife's choice. And there was no denying that Hilda was an attractive and in many respects an engaging little lady. So it came to pass.