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"I don't know who he is ... though I mentioned his name—what is the matter with you, Hamon?"

"Nothing," said the other harshly, "only——" He turned the subject. "Will you speak to Joan?" he asked curtly, and stalked out of the library.

Joan was in her room when the maid came for her, and short as was the space of time elapsing between the summons and the answering, Lord Creith was again absorbed in his catalogue.

"Oh, Joan ... yes, I wanted to see you about something. Yes, yes, I remember. Be as civil as you can to Hamon, my dear."

"Has he been complaining?"

"Good Lord, no!" said Lord Creith. "Only he has an idea that he would like to marry you. I don't know how you feel about it?"

"Do you wish me to tell you?" she asked, and his lordship shook his head vigorously.

"I don't think so—not if it's going to bother me. Of course, you know I've sold everything ... house, land and the place in London?"

"To Mr. Hamon?"

He nodded.

"Everything," he said. "If you don't marry him, there will only be the bit of money I have when I—er—step off, if you forgive the vulgarity."