ays,' said Alec. 'I have a great deal to do, and I must run up to
Lancashire for the week-end.'

'I'm sorry.'

'Won't you change your mind?'

She shook her head.

'No, I can't do that. I must have complete freedom.'

'And when I come back?'

She smiled delightfully.

'When you come back, if you still care, ask me again.'

'And the answer?'

'The answer perhaps will be different.'

VIII

A week later Alec MacKenzie and George Allerton started from Charing
Cross. They were to go by P. & O. from Marseilles to Aden, and there
catch a German boat which would take them to Mombassa. Lady Kelsey was
far too distressed to see her nephew off; and Lucy was glad, since it
gave her the chance of driving to the station alone with George. She
found Dick Lomas and Mrs. Crowley already there. When the train steamed
away, Lucy was standing a little apart from the others. She was quite
still. She did not even wave her hand, and there was little expression
on her face. Mrs. Crowley was crying cheerfully, and she dried her eyes
with a tiny handkerchief. Lucy turned to her and thanked her for coming.

'Shall I drive you back in the carriage?' sobbed Mrs. Crowley.

'I think I'll take a cab, if you don't mind,' Lucy answered quietly.
'Perhaps you'll take Dick.'

She did not bid them good-bye, but walked slowly away.

'How exasperating you people are!' cried Mrs. Crowley. 'I wanted to
throw myself in her arms and have a good cry on the platform. You have
no heart.'

Dick walked along by her side, and they got into Mrs. Crowley's
carriage. She soliloquised.

'I thank God that I have emotions, and I don't mind if I do show them. I
was the only person who cried. I knew I should cry, and I brought three
handkerchiefs on purpose. Look at them.' She pulled them out of her bag
and thrust them into Dick's hand. 'They're soaking.'

'You say it with triumph,' he smiled.

'I think you're all perfectly heartless. Those two boys were going away
for heaven knows how long on a dangerous journey, and they may never
come back, and you and Lucy said good-bye to them just as if they were
going off for a day's golf. I was the only one who said I was sorry, and
that we should miss them dreadfully. I hate this English coldness. When
I go to America, it's ten to one nobody comes to see me off, and if
anyone does he just nods and says "Good-bye, I hope you'll have a jolly
time."'

'Next time you go I will come and hurl myself on the