fellow, who had unexpectedly received a most alarming straight tip from
somebody in the City arrived in Brighton, at about lunch-time, with
something very much in the nature of a deadly bomb in his possession. But
he knew better than to throw it on the public pavement. He ate his lunch
impenetrably, sitting opposite Flora de Barral, and then, on some excuse,
closeted himself with the woman whom little Fyne's charity described
(with a slight hesitation of speech however) as his "Aunt."

What they said to each other in private we can imagine. She came out of
her own sitting-room with red spots on her cheek-bones, which having
provoked a question from her "beloved" charge, were accounted for by a
curt "I have a headache coming on." But we may be certain that the talk
being over she must have said to that young blackguard: "You had better
take her out for a ride as usual." We have proof positive of this in
Fyne and Mrs. Fyne observing them mount at the door and pass under the
windows of their sitting-room, talking together, and the poor girl all
smiles; because she enjoyed in all innocence the company of Charley. She
made no secret of it whatever to Mrs. Fyne; in fact, she had confided to
her, long before, that she liked him very much: a confidence which had
filled Mrs. Fyne with desolation and that sense of powerless anguish
which is experienced in certain kinds of nightmare. For how could she
warn the girl? She did venture to tell her once that she didn't like Mr.
Charley. Miss de Barral heard her with astonishment. How was it
possible not to like Charley? Afterwards with naive loyalty she told
Mrs. Fyne that, immensely as she was fond of her she could not hear a
word against Charley--the wonderful Charley.

The daughter of de Barral probably enjoyed her jolly ride with the jolly
Charley (infinitely more jolly than going out with a stupid old riding-
master), very much indeed, because the Fynes saw them coming back at a