It is curious, but no affair of mine." Three times within the next few days he encountered the lady on the tow-path or elsewhere with a young gentleman of empty countenance, who, he saw must be the real Lothario.

Once they passed him when he was in the shadow of a tree, and the lady was making pretty faces with a cigarette in her mouth.

The house-boat _Heathen Chinee_ lay but a short distance off, and Scrymgeour could see the owner gazing after his daughter placidly, a pipe between his lips.
[Illustration] "He must be approving of her conduct now," was my friend's natural conclusion.

Then one forenoon Scrymgeour travelled to town in the same compartment as the old gentleman, who was exceedingly frank, and made sly remarks about romantic young people who met by stealth when there was no reason why they should not meet openly.

"What does he mean ?" Scrymgeour asked himself, uneasily.