CHAPTER IX.
BIGAMY.
From the drawing-room window Melville watched Sir Ross prancing down the garden path, and then he turned to Mrs. Sinclair as she came in holding his flowers. He would have assumed a penitent demeanour if the situation had seemed to require it, but a glance at his aunt's face reassured him. The laughter in her eyes was infectious, and Melville laughed in response.
"Sir Ross looks a little put out," he said tentatively.
"He's in an abominable temper," Mrs. Sinclair answered. "You have a great deal to answer for, Melville. You are the cause of quite a serious quarrel between that excellent little man and myself."
"I'm sorry if you're sorry," Melville said. "He doesn't like me, I know, but I wonder why?"
"Is it so surprising?" she enquired.
"Well," said Melville candidly, "most people do like me, you know—barring the very good ones."
"I see," said Mrs. Sinclair. "The fact is Sir Ross thinks you are too attentive to me."
"So he told me," Melville answered. "He left me in no doubt as to what he wanted; he regards me as a sort of trespasser, and desired me to clear out and not come back."
"What did you say?"