"Thank you for the lesson in botany, Miss Wray!" he said easily. "I
shall not forget it."

The other primroses fell from her fingers; with a response equally
careless if somewhat reserved, she turned and reëntered the library.
Lord Ronsdale regarded both quickly; then started, as he caught sight of
the flower in John Steele's coat. A frown crossed his face and he looked
away to conceal the singularly cold and vindictive gleam that sprang to
his eyes.

* * * * *




CHAPTER IV

TIDES VARYING


One evening about a fortnight later Lord Ronsdale, in a dissatisfied
frame of mind, strolled along Piccadilly. His face wore a dark look, the
expression of one ill-pleased with fortune's late attitude toward him.
Plans that he had long cherished seemed to be in some jeopardy; he had
begun to flatter himself that the flowery way to all he desired lay
before him and that he had but to tread it, when another, as the
soothsayers put it, had crossed his path.

A plain man, a man without title! Lord Ronsdale told himself Miss