es of South Africa.

"Why," she cried, "I never knew you had been there."

"No," he said, with a twinkle in his eye and a dry little twist to his
lips, "I never told you."

But after that he relapsed into comparative silence, and shortly after
the meal, excused himself rather deftly, though none the less certainly,
and went to his room.

Roger, as usual, had an engagement elsewhere, and presently he, too,
departed. Judith and Imrie were left alone.

"That was a splendid sermon, Arnold," she said, with an effort at
enthusiasm, and a subconscious question as to whether she really meant
what she said.

Imrie was thoughtful. "I did my best. The congregation seemed to like
it. But it could be done much better."

"So could most things."

"Perfection is no trifle, is it," he smiled. "But let's not talk of such
dreadful things as sermons. I haven't seen you for ages...."

"Six weeks, to be exact," she interrupted.

"Exactly!" he thanked her with his eyes for the implication, and
woman-like, she took away his pleasure deliberately.

"The accident happened the day after you left."

"Oh." He was silent for a moment. "That was a splendid thing,
Judith--your taking that fellow in. Just like you. But hasn't he been
something of a--well, a care?"

"On the contrary. I've enjoyed him intensely."

"But don't you find him--a little uncouth?" he persisted.

"Yes--very. But a little roughness is a relief after too much polish,
isn't it?"

"Yes, of course," he admitted. "But you wouldn't confess even if you
had been put out. And that's like you, too." He looked at her with an
expression in his eyes, the meaning of which there could be no doubt.

"Let's go out on the porch," she said abruptly. "It's so stuffy in
here."

The moon was full and it shone over a picture of loveliness. Below them,
as they sat on the stone balustrade of the terrace, stretched Judith's
immaculate gardens, redolent with the soft perfume of sweet pea and
mignonette. As the breeze faintly stirred the leaves, the shadows danced
fantastically on the sod. Over in the velvet depths of the sunken tennis
courts, the fireflies flashed their lanterns incessantly. Somewhere in
the distance a guitar sounded now and again, and a woman's voice rose
and fell softly. It was very peaceful and pleasant, and Imrie, thinking
of the hot city and the morrow, drew a deep sigh. No power on earth
could prevent him from going back--but he did not pretend to think that
h