There was in his tone a touch of malice that caught Dinah very oddly, like the flick of a lash intended for another. She awoke very suddenly to the realization of Scott sitting near Isabel with the light shining on his pale face and small, colourless beard. How insignificant he looked!

And yet the narrow shoulders had an independent set about them as though they were not without a certain strength.

The smile still lingered about his lips as he made quiet rejoinder. "It sometimes needs a philosopher to tell what is the best."

Eustace gave an impatient shrug. "The philosopher is not always a wise man," he observed briefly.

"But seldom an utter fool," returned Scott.

The elder brother's face was contemptuous as he said, "A philosopher may recognize what is best, but it is seldom within his reach."

"And so, being a philosopher, he does without it." Scott spoke thoughtfully; he was gazing straight before him.

Isabel suddenly leaned forward. "He is not always the loser, Stumpy," she said.

He looked at her. "Certainly a man can't lose what he has never had," he said.

"Every man has his chance once," she insisted.

"And--if he's a philosopher--he doesn't take it," laughed Eustace. "Don't you know, my dear Isabel, that that is the very cream and essence of philosophy?"

She gave him a swift look that was an open challenge. "What do you know of philosophy and the greater things of life?" she said.

He looked momentarily surprised. Dinah saw the ready frown gather on his handsome face; but before he could speak Scott intervened.

"How on earth did we get onto this abstruse subject?" he said easily.

"Miss Bathurst will vote us all a party of bores, and with reason. What were we talking about before? Iced cake, wasn't it? Are you a cook Miss Bathurst?"

"I can make some kinds of cakes," Dinah said modestly, "but I like making pastry best. I often make sausage-rolls for Dad to take hunting."

"That sounds more amusing for him than for you," observed Eustace.

"Oh no, I love making them," she a.s.sured him. "And he always says he likes mine better than anyone's. But I'm not a particularly good cook really. Mother generally does that part, and I do all the rest."

"All?" said Isabel.

"Yes. You see, we can't afford to keep a servant," said Dinah. "And I groom Rupert--that's the hunter--too, when Billy isn't at home. I like doing that. He's such a beauty."

"Do you ever ride him?" asked Eustace.

She shook her head. "No. I'd love to, of course, but there's never any time. I can't spend as long as I like over grooming him because there are so many other things. But he generally looks very nice," she spoke with pride; "quite as nice as any of the de Vignes's horses."

"You must have a very busy time of it," said Scott.

"Yes." Dinah's bright face clouded a little. "I often wish I had more time for other things; but it's no good wishing. Anyway, I've had my time out here, and I shall never forget it."

"You must come out again with us," said Isabel.

Dinah beamed. "Oh, how I should love it!" she said. "But--" her face fell again--"I don't believe mother will ever spare me a second time."

"All right. I'll run away with you in the yacht," said Eustace. "Come for a trip in the summer!"

She looked at him with shining eyes. "It's not a bit of good thinking about it," she said. "But oh, how lovely it would be!"

He laughed, looking at her with that gleam in his eyes that she had come to know as exclusively her own. "Where there's a will, there's a way," he said. "If you have the will, you can leave the way to me."

She drew a quick breath. Her heart was beating rather fast. "All right,"

she said. "I'll come."

"Is it a promise?" said Eustace.

She shook her head instantly. "No. I never make promises. They have a way of spoiling things so."

"Exactly my own idea," he said. "Never turn a pleasure into a duty, or it becomes a burden at once. Well, I must go and make myself pretty for this evening's show. If I'm very bored, I shall come and sit out with you."

"Not to-night," said Isabel with quick decision. "Dinah is going to bed very soon."

"Really?" He stood by Dinah's couch, looking down at her with his faint supercilious smile. "Do you submit to that sort of tyranny?" he said.

She held up her hand to him. "It isn't tyranny. It is the very dearest kindness in the world. Don't you know the difference?"

He held the little, confiding hand a moment or two, and she felt his fingers close around it with a strength that seemed as if it encompa.s.sed her very soul. "There are two ways of looking at everything," he said.

"But I shouldn't be too docile if I were you; not, that is, if you want to get any fun out of life. Remember, life is short."

He let her go with the words, straightened himself to his full, splendid height, and sauntered with regal arrogance to the door.

"I want you, Stumpy," he said, in pa.s.sing. "There are one or two letters for you to deal with. You can come to my room while I dress."

"In that case, I had better say good night too," said Scott, rising.

"Oh no," said Dinah, with her quick smile. "You can come in and say good night to me afterwards--when I'm in bed. Can't he, Isabel?"

She had fallen into the habit of calling Isabel by her Christian name from hearing Scott use it. It had begun almost in delirium, and now it came so naturally that she never dreamed of reverting to the more formal mode of address.

Scott smiled in his quiet fashion, and turned to join his brother. "I will with pleasure," he said.

Eustace threw a mocking glance backwards. "It seems that philosophers rush in where mere ordinary males fear to tread," he observed. "Stumpy, allow me to congratulate you on your privileges!"

"Thanks, old chap!" Scott made answer in his tired voice. "But there is no occasion for the ordinary male to envy me my compensations."

"What did he mean by that?" said Dinah, as the door closed.

Isabel moved to her side and sat down on the edge of the couch. "Scott is very lonely, little one," she said.

"Is he?" said Dinah, wonderingly. "But--surely he must have lots of friends. He's such a dear."

Isabel smiled at her rather sadly. "Yes, everyone who knows him thinks that."

"Everyone must love him," protested Dinah. "Who could help it?"