and when the guests departed she had vanished upstairs before anyone knew
that she had gone.

"Have a cigar in the garden, Vivian, before you turn in? There is a moon,
and it is warmer outside than in," said Lord Buntingford to his cousin,
when they were left alone.

"By all means."

So presently they found themselves pacing a flagged path outside a long
conservatory which covered one side of the house. The moon was cloudy,
and the temperature low. But the scents of summer were already in the
air--of grass and young leaf, and the first lilac. The old grey house
with its haphazard outline and ugly detail acquired a certain dignity
from the night, and round it stretched dim slopes of pasture, with oaks
rising here and there from bands of white mist.

"Is that tale true you told me before dinner about Jim Donald?" said Lord
Buntingford abruptly. "You're sure it's true--honour bright?"

The other laughed.

"Why, I had it from Jim himself!" He laughed. "He just made a joke of it.
But he is a mean skunk! I've found out since that he wanted to buy
Preston out for the part Preston had taken in another affair. There's a
pretty case coming on directly, with Jim for hero. You have heard of it."

"No," said Buntingford curtly; "but in any case nothing would have
induced me to have him here. Preston's a friend of mine. So when Helena
told me at dinner she had asked him for Saturday, I had to tell her I