"Certainly; Miss Violet Easton, of Washington; very fond of horses; keeps a lot of hunters; rich as mud. Would you like to know her?"
"Yes. Much obliged for the information. Oh, play golf? No; it's a very overrated game; you had better count me out this morning."
An hour later, when she returned, had she taken the trouble to notice, she would have seen him still sitting at the top of the same flight of steps, seemingly absorbed in nothing.
II
Three weeks had now passed since that 17th day of March, and Jack Mordaunt had been introduced to Miss Easton; had walked and driven with Miss Easton; had ridden Miss Easton's horses to the hunt three times a week--in fact, had been seen so much in the society of the young woman that gossips had already begun to couple their names.
If, however, M
