Lord Ronsdale perused the words more rapidly; paused, on his face an expression of eagerness, expectancy.
"So that was it," he said to himself slowly. "I might have known--"
Voices without caught his attention; he glanced quickly through the window. Jocelyn Wray and some one else had drawn near, were walking up the marble steps.
"John Steele!" He, Lord Ronsdale, crumpled the paper in his hand. "Here!"
CHAPTER X
A CONTEST
A few days passed; the usual round of pastimes inseparable from house parties served to while away the hours; other guests arrived, one or two went. Lord Ronsdale had greeted John Steele perfunctorily; the other's manner was likewise mechanically courteous. It could not very well have been otherwise; a number of people were near.
"Come down for a little sport?" the nobleman, his hands carelessly thrust into the pockets of his shooting trousers, had asked with a frosty smile.