to him for his counsel and
guidance.

"I never had any doubt of your coming to a right decision," he told her,
holding her hand for a moment longer than he need. She looked into his
eyes, but said nothing; she gave the air of being heartily content to
surrender her judgment to his.

I saw them off and came back to her. She was still standing in the same
place, looking very thoughtful and frowning slightly; it was by no means
the trustful expression with which her eyes had dwelt on Fillingford's.

"Directly after lunch I must go down to Hatcham Ford and see Mr. Octon.
I want you to come with me."

"I? Not Miss Chatters?"

"You--not Chat. Don't be stupid," she said.

CHAPTER VIII

A SECRET TREATY

Jenny's first remark as we drove down together to Hatcham Ford seemed to
have very little to do with the matter in hand. Still less to do with
it, as one would think, had the fact that, just before starting, she
had--I learned it afterwards--given Chat a piece of handsome old lace.

"I like your name," she remarked. "'Austin Austin'--quite a good idea of
your parents'! One's only got to drop the 'Mr.' to be friendly at once.
No learning a strange Algernon, or Edward, or things of that kind!"

"Do drop it," said I.

"I have, Austin," said Jenny. She edged ever so little nearer to me, yet
looked steadily out of the window on the other side of the brougham.
"I'm frightened," she added in a low voice.

"Upon my honor," said I, "I don't wonder at it."

Such was the beginning of a remarkable kindness, a gentleness, almost an
appealing attitude, which Jenny displayed during several weeks that
followed. I must not flatter myself--Chat shared the rays of kindly
sunshine. If I were promoted to the Christian name, Chat got the lace.

"What will you call me?" she asked. "'Miss Driver' sounds--Say 'Jenny'!"

"Before the county? Impossible!"

"Well, then, when we're alone?"

"Shall it be Lady Jenny? For ourselves?"

She sighed acquiescence. "You're a great comfort to me," she added.
"You'll come in, won't you, if you hear me scream?"

"Come in?"

"I've got to see him alone, you know." She raised her hands for an
instant, as though in lamentation; "Oh, why is he like that?"

There was no treating this lightly--for one who felt for her what I did.
I was no such fool as not to see that her sudden access of graciousness
had a purpose--I had to be conciliated and stroked the right way for
some reason; so doubtles