air. But what can we do? I'd hate to interfere with an affair of Renny's. Besides, Alayne is not that sort of girl—"
"They're all that sort. Show me the woman who wouldn't enjoy a love affair with a man like Renny, especially if she were snatched up from a big city and hidden away in a sequestered hole like Jalna. I'd be tempted to have one myself if I could find a damsel decrepit enough to fancy me."
Ernest regarded his brother with a tolerant smile.
"Well, Nick, you have had affairs enough in your day. You and Millicent might be—"
"For God's sake, don't say that," interrupted Nicholas. "I'd rather be dead than have that woman about me."
"Ah, well—" Ernest subsided, but he murmured something about "a dashed sight too many affairs."
"Well, they're all over, aren't they?" Nicholas asked testily. "Ashes without a spark. I can't even remember their names. Did I ever kiss any one in passion? I can't recall the sensation. What I am interested in is this case of Renny and Alayne; it's serious."
"He scarcely seems to notice her in the house."
"Notice her! Oh, my dear man—" Nicholas bit off the top of a cigar, and scornfully spat it out.
"Well, for an instance, when the young Fennels were in the other night, and the gramophone was playing, Alayne danced oftener with them and Eden, and even young Finch, than with Renny. I only saw her dance with him once."
Nicholas said, pityingly: "My poor blind old brother! They only danced together once because once was all they could stand of it. I saw them dancing in the hall. It was dim there. Her face had gone white, and her eyes—well, I don't believe they saw anything. He moved like a man in a dream. He'd a stiff smile on his face, as
