A fair fight! What a politico-economical idea of fairness!' He spoke with scorn, his eyes flashing and his nostrils trembling.

Mr.
Newthorpe kept a quiet smile--sympathetic, yet critical.
Annabel sought her father for a word apart before lunch.
'How long will Mr.Egremont stay ?' she asked, apparently speaking in her quality of house-mistress.
'A day or two,' was the reply.

'We'll drive over to Pooley Bridge for his bag this afternoon; he left it at the hotel.' 'What has he on his mind ?' she continued, smiling.
'Some idealistic project.

He has only given me a hint.

I dare say we shall hear all about it to-night.'.