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Jim Featherstone was gazing at her pensively.

"One would almost think that you were married, and to your little Julius. If that is so, Fay, accept my heartiest congratulations."

But she had turned before he could finish his sentence and was walking furiously away, tugging a reluctant chow behind her.

For the second time in ten minutes Jim Featherstone turned to look thoughtfully after a woman.

Later he strolled into the Carlton to renew acquaintance with the friend of Fay Clayton, but Julius had already left with his employer for Garre Castle.

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Garre Castle, with its gaunt keep and its crenellated walls, offered little hint of the comfort it held. Forbidding and gloomy of exterior, no ray of light shone from its loopholed walls and turrets. The mullioned windows of Mr. Bellamy's library looked out upon the green lawn of the inner ward, and from these windows one wall of the Sanctuary Keep rose in a stark, unbroken, and seemingly endless line.

There were people who wondered why this man, who never read a book and to whom history made no appeal, should have bought, at a big figure, this home of the dead and gone lights of chivalry. Knowing him, they would not have wondered. It was the strength of it that thrilled this old builder.