with light tread he bore his son away. Maud looked after him with a touch of wistfulness, but she did not move, and in a few minutes he came back to her, knelt beside her, and gathered her strongly into his arms.
"My girl!" he said softly. "My own girl!"
She clasped him round the neck, laying her head against him without words.
"Tired?" he said.
"No—no—not really! Too happy to complain anyway." She spoke in a whisper as if unwilling to break her silence.
"You want more help," he said.
She lifted her face and kissed his neck. "No, Jake dear. I don't want the children taken out of my hands entirely. Whatever should I do without them?"
"Look after me for a change," suggested Jake.
She laughed a muffled laugh with her lips raised to his. "Do I neglect you, Jake?"
"No," he said. "You're the best wife a man ever had. I believe I'm first with you—even now."
"Always—always first," she whispered against the lips that pressed her own.
He held her very closely to him for a space in silence. He had loved her with a fiery worship from the first moment of their meeting, but the wealth of her answering love still filled his soul with wonder. Over and over again he would tell himself that he was not her sort, but when he held her thus throbbing against his heart, he knew beyond all questioning that they were one.
"You haven't told me a single thing about today's meeting," she murmured presently.
Jake began to smile. "On my soul I had forgotten all about it. Prince
Charlie has gained his first laurels. He won by two and a half lengths."
"Oh, Jake, how splendid! How proud you must be! I'm tremendously glad. And what about Charlie? Was he there to see his namesake carry all before him?"
"Saltash, do you mean? Yes, he was there." Jake's tone was somewhat dry.
Maud drew back a little to look at him. "I hope you asked him to dine," she said.
"Oh yes," said Jake, with a touch of grimness. "Bunny saw to that on your behalf. He considers—and with reason—that you have a right to ask whoever you like to your own house."
"Jake!" Maud suddenly sat upright, her eyes burning like stars. "If Bunny said that—"
"He didn't," said Jake.
"Or hinted it even—it was perfectly hateful of him! I shall go and tell him so!"
Maud made as if she would release herself from his hold, but he restrained her.
"No—no, my girl! You keep calm! I can hold my own with Bunny, and he didn't mean any harm. I asked Saltash all right, and he's coming."
"Against your will," said Maud.
"No. Against my judgment, maybe. Not against my will. I've no objection to entertaining him if you wish it. You and I don't quarrel over trifles like Saltash."
Jake's tone was humorously tender. He patted her flushed cheek in a conciliatory fashion. She turned very swiftly and kissed his hand.
"Thank you, Jake—darling. But—you are master in this house, remember.
No one enters it without your consent."
"Not even Saltash?" smiled Jake.
"Not even—Bunny!" said Maud, still breathing resentment.
He took her gently by the shoulder. "Look here, my girl! I won't have you say a word to the boy about this, see? I didn't know you'd flare up like that or I shouldn't have spoken. He didn't mean it that way. If he had, I'd have punched his head. And after all," his eyes smiled suddenly into hers, "I do live on my wife's bounty, don't I? Wouldn't I be driving cows on the other side of the Atlantic without it?"
"No," Maud said. "You'd be owning your own ranch by this time, and—and—and generally licking creation, Jake, as only you know how."
"Oh, shucks!" said Jake softly, and kissed her again upon the lips. "I'd sooner be here anyway. Well, Saltash is coming, so we've got to make the best of it. I shouldn't care a cuss if it weren't for young Bunny. But he's always been keener on his lordship's company than I've thought advisable."
"Oh, Jake," she said, colouring a little, "I don't believe Charlie would do him any harm."
"Not intentionally perhaps," said Jake. "I've no ill feeling for him, heaven knows, but I can't say I think his society likely to have a very improving effect upon anyone."
"I don't think you quite understand him," Maud said thoughtfully.
Whereat Jake laughed so suddenly that she looked at him with raised brows. He got to his feet, still laughing.
"Very likely not. We've had a good many misunderstandings, he and I, from the day I cowhided him for a scoundrel to the day I nearly shot him for a blackguard."
"Oh, but that was all so long ago," Maud said quickly. "He wasn't much more than a boy in those days. He has grown a lot since then."
Jake grunted. "Which way, think you? Well, I must dress. He may be here before we're ready for him."
He turned to go back to his own room, but Maud stayed him for a moment. "Jake," she said almost wistfully, "you know—with all his faults—he always had—possibilities."
"I know," Jake said, looking down at her. "He's made the most of 'em too."
Her face quivered. "Don't," she said. "It—isn't it rather ungenerous to condemn a man unheard?"
Jake made a faint sound of contempt or scepticism, but no reply in words.
She drew herself up out of her chair by his arm. "Jake, I want you to do something for me."
"Well?" said Jake uncompromisingly.
She met his look unswervingly. "Let me be a friend to him tonight! Let me be alone with him and find out—if he will tell me—whether there is any truth in this rumour that there was a woman on board the yacht."
"And when you've found out?" said Jake.
She made a little gesture of appeal. "Will you leave that to me? I have sometimes felt that I might be—a help to him if ever there came an opportunity. Jake, you don't mind my trying to help him? I have a feeling that I understand him better than most people do."
"I think it's a wasted sentiment," Jake said. "But—do what seems good to you, my girl! I shan't interfere."
"And you won't be vexed?" she pleaded.
He smiled his sudden, illumining smile. "No, I reckon you'll never vex me any that way again," he said.
She went close to him. "Indeed—no, Jake! But—don't
