He considered for a moment or two, looking at his shabby serge suit, then
sat down again resolutely.

"No! She'll have to live our life. Besides, I don't know what Denton
would think."

And he lay back in his chair, recalling with some amusement the
criticisms of his housekeeper upon a young Catholic friend of his
who--rare event--had spent a fishing week with him in the autumn, and had
startled the old house and its inmates with his frequent changes of
raiment. "It's yan set o' cloas for breakfast, an anudther for fishin, an
anudther for ridin, an yan for when he cooms in, an a fine suit for
dinner--an anudther fer smoakin--A should think he mut be oftener naked
nor donned!" Denton had said in her grim Westmoreland, and Helbeck had
often chuckled over the remark.

An hour later, half an hour after the usual time, Helbeck, all the traces
of his muddy walk removed, and garbed with scrupulous neatness in the old
black coat and black tie he always wore of an evening, was sitting
opposite to Miss Fountain at supper.

"You got everything you wanted for Augustina, I hope?" he said to her
shyly as they sat down. He had awaited her in the dining-room itself, so
as to avoid the awkwardness of taking her in. It was some years since a
woman had stayed under his roof, or since he had been a guest in the same
house with women.

"Oh yes!" said Miss Fountain. But she threw a sly swift glance towards
Mrs. Denton, who was just coming into the room with some coffee, then
compressed her lips and studied her plate. Helbeck detected the glance,