At length he proceeded toward McClintock's bungalow, drawn by the lights and the sound of music. He walked with bent head. It seems he does not inherit the title. “You go home and think of all this,” he said, “and talk about it to-morrow. Sir Rowland," he added, in a deep whisper, "do you agree to my terms?" "I do," answered Trenchard, in the same tone. “You could have a talk to Miss Kitty Brett this afternoon, if you liked. Only that I was prevented by one of those soldiers that caught me in the big house. You could walk the city streets and with every blink you could take in a new sight of beauty so great that your heart would weep for it. If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love. Presently repellance grew under the frozen mask of astonishment and dissipated it. "You won't refuse it, Mr. " "Yes.
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