He was hurt and stung, as she meant he should be, and seeing it, her
heart misgave her, and she was sorry. But it was too late, and she must
not confess weakness now.

There was a cold look in his face, a bitterness about his mouth she had
never seen before. When he rose he held out his hand to Mrs. Everard; he
thanked her for coming here with him, and then he gave Joan the coldest
of cold bows. He held no hand out to her, he had no speech for her. Only
one word, one word that once before he had flung at her, and now flung
into her face again.

"Ungenerous!" he said, so that she alone could hear, and then he was
gone, and Helen looked after him. And then, turning, she glanced at
Joan, and saw that there were tears in the girl's grey eyes.




CHAPTER XIX

THE INVESTIGATIONS OF MR. SLOTMAN


"And who the dickens," said Lady Linden, "is Mister--Philip
what's-his-name? I can't see it--what's his name, Marjorie?" Lady Linden
held out the card to the girl.

"It--it is--Slotman, auntie," Marjorie said.

"Don't sniff, child. You've got a cold; go up to my room, and in the