"I have
been to the house several times when they were alone," she continued
eagerly. "They even asked me on Christmas Day."

"I know," he said shortly. "I was in Saint Moritz, skating in the
sunshine, when I heard how you were spending _your_ Christmas holidays."
His face looked suddenly grim and set. "A man feels pretty helpless at
a time like that. I didn't exactly enjoy myself for the rest of that
afternoon."

"That was stupid of you, but--but very nice all the same," Claire said
softly. "It wouldn't have made things easier for me if other people had
been dull, and, after all, I came off better than I expected."

"You were all alone--in your Grand Hotel?"

"Only for a week." Claire resolutely ignored the hit. "Then my friend
came back, and we made some little excursions together, and enjoyed
being lazy, and getting up late, and reading lots of nice books. I had
made all sorts of good resolutions about the work I was going to get
through in the holidays, but I never did one thing."

"Do you often come to the Park?"

Claire felt a pang of regret. Was it possible that even this simple
pleasure was to be denied her? She knew too well that if she said
"yes," Captain Fanshawe would look out for her again, would come with
the express intention of meeting her. To say "yes" would be virtually
to consent to such meetings. It was a temptation which took all her
strength to reject, but rejected it must be. She would not stoop to the
making of a rendez-vous.

"I have been several times, but I shan't be able to come any more. We
get busier towards the end of the term. Examinations--"

Captain Fanshawe straightened himself, and said in a very stiff voice--

"I also, unfortunately, am extremely busy, so I shall not be able to see
the rhododendrons in their full beauty. I had hoped you might be more
fortunate."

Claire stared at a passing motor, of which she saw nothing but a moving
mass; when she turned back it was to find her companion's eyes fixed on
her face, with an expression half guilty, half appealing, altogether
ingratiating. At the sight her lips twitched, and suddenly they were
laughing together with a delicious consciousness of understanding.

"Well!" he cried, "it's true! I mean it! There's no need to stay away
because of me; but as I _am_ here to-day, and it's my last chance, won't
you let me give you tea? If we walk along to Victoria Gate--"

Claire thought with a spasm of longing o