and donned a dainty little apron. The soft dark hair clustered tenderly about her temples.
"Oh, Aunt Liza," she said, "if I didn't go and forget that Sally was out tonight! I'm sorry I'm too late to help with the dinner. But I'll take it in."
She caught her breath at sight of the massive, silent figure seated against the wall, but instantly recovered her composure and passed it by with an upward tilt of the chin.
"You needn't trouble yourself to do that, my dear," rejoined Mrs. Peck, with a touch of tartness. "I'll wait on Mr. Knight myself. You can lay the supper in the parlour if you've a mind to be useful. There'll be four to lay for."
Columbine turned with something of a pounce. "No, there won't! There'll be three," she said. "If that—oaf—stays to supper, I go without!"
"Good gracious!" ejaculated Mrs. Peck.
Rufus came out of his silence. "That's all right. I'm not staying to supper," he said.
"But—lor' sakes!—what's the matter?" questioned Mrs. Peck. "Have you two been quarrelling?"
"No, we haven't!" flashed Columbine. "I wouldn't stoop. But I'm not going to sit down to supper with a man who hasn't learnt manners. I'd sooner go without—much."
Rufus remained absolutely unmoved. He made no attempt at self-justification, though Mrs. Peck was staring from one to the other in mystified interrogation.
Columbine turned swiftly and caught up a cover for the savoury dish that steamed on the table. "You'd better let me take this in before it gets cold," she said.
"No; put it on the rack!" commanded Mrs. Peck. "There's a drop of soup to go in first. And, Columbine, my dear, I don't think it's right of you to go losing your temper that way. Rufus is Adam's son, remember, and you can't refuse to sit at table with him."
"Leave her alone, Mother!" For the second time Rufus intervened. "I've offended her. My mistake. I'll know better next time."
His deep voice was wholly devoid of humour. It was, in fact, devoid of any species of emotion whatever. Yet, oddly enough, the anger died out of Columbine's face as she heard it. She turned to the tablecloth-press and began to unwind it in silence.
Mrs. Peck sniffed, and took up the soup-tureen.
As she waddled out of the kitchen Columbine withdrew the parlour tablecloth and turned round.
"If you're really sorry," she said, "I'll forgive you."
Rufus regarded her for several seconds in silence, a slow smile dawning in his eyes. "Thank you," he said finally.
"You are sorry then?" insisted Columbine.
He shook his great bull-head, the smile still in his eyes. "I wouldn't have missed it for anything," he said.
There was no perceptible familiarity in the remark, and Columbine, after brief consideration, decided to dismiss it without discussion. "Well, let it be a lesson to you, and don't you ever do such a thing again!" she said severely. "For I won't have you or any man lay hands on me—not even in fun."
"All right," said Rufus.
He thrust his hands deep into his pockets as if to remove all cause of offence, and was rewarded by a swift smile from Columbine. The storm had blown away.
"I'll lay for four after all," she said, as she whisked out of the room.
Rufus was still seated in solitary state in the kitchen when Mrs. Peck returned from the little coffee-room where she had been serving her guest.
She peered round with caution ere she came close to him and spoke.
"It's as you thought. He don't want to go with either you or Adam."
Rufus's face remained unchanged; it was slightly bovine of expression as he received the news. "We'll both get to bed in good time then," was his comment.
Mrs. Peck's smooth brow drew in momentary exasperation. She had expected something more dramatic than this.
"I'm glad you're so easily satisfied," she said. "But let me tell you—I'm not!"
She paused to see if this piece of information would take more effect than the first, but again Rufus proved a disappointment. Neither by word nor look did he express any sympathy.
Mrs. Peck continued, it being contrary to her nature to leave anything to the imagination of her hearers. "If he'd been content to go with one of you, I wouldn't have given it another thought. Goodness knows, I'm not of a suspicious turn. But the moment I mention the matter, he turns round with his sweetest smile and he says, 'Oh, don't you trouble, Mrs. Peck!' he says. 'I quite understand. Miss Columbine explained it all, and I quite see your point. It ought to have occurred to me sooner,' he says, smiling with them nice teeth of his, 'but, if you'll believe me, it didn't.' And then, when I suggested maybe he'd like you or Adam to go with him instead, it was, 'No, no, Mrs. Peck. I wouldn't ask it of 'em. I couldn't drag any man at the chariot-wheels of Art. If I did, she would see to it that the chariot was empty.' He most always talks like that," ended Mrs. Peck in an aggrieved tone. "He's that airy in his ways."
A sudden trill of laughter from the doorway caused her to straighten herself sharply and trot to the fireplace with a guilty air.
Columbine entered, light of foot, her eyes brimful of mirth. "You're caught, Aunt Liza! Yes, you're caught!" she commented ungenerously. "I know exactly what you were saying. Shall I tell you? No, p'raps I'd better not. I'll tell you what you looked like instead, shall I? You looked exactly like that funny old speckled hen in the yard who always clucks such a lot. And Rufus"—she threw him a merry glance from which all resentment had wholly departed—"Rufus looks—and is—just like a great red ox."
"Don't you be pert!" said Mrs. Peck, stooping stoutly over the fire. "Get a duster and dust them plates!"
Columbine laughed again with her chin in the air. She found a duster and occupied herself as desired.
Her eyes were upon her work. Plainly she was not looking at Rufus, not apparently thinking of him. But—very suddenly—without changing her attitude, she flashed him a swift glance. He was looking straight at her, and in his blue eyes was an intense, deep glow as of flaming spirit.
Columbine's look shot away from him with the rapidity of a swallow on the wing. The colour deepened in her cheeks.
"P'raps he's almost more like a prize bull," she said meditatively. "Perhaps he's a Minotaur, Aunt Liza. Do you think he is?"
"My dear, I don't know what you're talking about," said Mrs. Peck, with a touch of acidity.
Columbine laughed a little. "Do you know, Rufus?" she said.
She did not look at him with the question; there was a quivering dimple in her red cheek that came and went.
"I'd like to know," said Rufus with simplicity.
"Would you, really?" Columbine polished the last plate vigorously and set it down. "The Minotaur," she said, in the tone of a schoolmistress delivering a lecture, "was a monster, half-bull, half-man, who lived in a place like the Spear Point Caves, and devoured young
