is room was a somewhat recent
addition to the house and shut away from the rest of the building by a
long passage. She passed from the drawing-room, and made her way
thither.

It surprised her a little to find the door standing open, but it was
only a passing wonder. The light that came in through green sun-blinds
made her liken it in her own mind to a chamber under the sea. She went
to a book-shelf in a dark corner, and commenced her hunt.

"If you are looking for Farrow's _Treatise on Party Government_,"
remarked a casual voice behind her, "I've got it here."

Olga started violently. Any voice would have given her a surprise at
that moment, but the voice of Max Wyndham was an absolute shock that set
every nerve on edge.

He laughed at her from the sofa, on which he sprawled at length. "My
good child, your nerves are like fiddle-strings after a frost. Remind me
to make you up a tonic when we get back! Did you bicycle over?"

Olga ignored the question. She was for the moment too angry to speak.

"Sit down," he said. "You ought to know better than to scorch on a day
like this. You deserve a sunstroke."

"I didn't scorch," declared Olga, stung by this injustice. "I'm not such
an idiot. You seem to think I haven't any sense at all!"

"My thoughts are my own," said Max. "Why didn't you say you were coming?
You could have motored over with me."

"I didn't so much as know you would be in this direction. How could I?"
said Olga. "And even if I had known--" she, paused.

"You would have preferred sunstroke?" he suggested.

"That I can quite believe. Well, here is the book!" He swung his legs
off the sofa. "I dropped in to fetch it myself, as your good uncle
seemed to want it, and then became so absorbed in its pages that I
couldn't put it down. We seem to have a rotten Constitution altogether.
Wonder whose fault it is."

Olga took the book with a slight, contemptuous glance. That he had been
interested in the subject for a single moment she did not believe. She
wondered that he deemed it worth his while to feign interest.

"Are you taking a holiday to-day?" she enquired bluntly.

He smiled at that. "I cut off an old man's toe at the cottage hospital
this morning, vaccinated four babies, pulled out a tooth, and dressed a
scald. What more would you have? I suppose you don't want to be
vaccinated by any chance?"

Olga passed the flippant question over. "It's a half-holiday then, is
it?" she said.

"Well, as it