ncing at Mary in her corner. Mary had enjoyed her day
thoroughly, and was wearing an air of great content. She was carrying a
bunch of the wild thyme. She had taken off her hat and her cloudy hair
seemed blown about her head like an aureole. She had a delicate, wild,
elusive air. He withdrew his glance abruptly.

"It is a guilty conscience," he said. "I ought not to come back and dine
with you to-night. I ought to put you into a cab and myself into
another, go home for my bag and take the night-express to Paris. The
House only rises for ten days and I have to be in my place on the
opening night."

Mary looked up at him with a friendly air of being disappointed. She was
engaged in putting the wild thyme into a bunch, stalk by stalk. Mrs.
Morres began to protest--

"Well, of all the deceitful persons! After luring me to spend a Good
Friday in town. To be sure, I shall have Mary. Will you come to the Good
Friday service at St. Hugh's with me, Mary?"

"I should love to come."

"Very well, then. Have your bag packed and come back with me to sleep.
We shall get off the earlier on Saturday morning. So we shan't miss you
at all, Sir Robin."

He looked at her with great contrition.

"My mother--" he began.

"To be sure, your mother has first claim. To say nothing of another."

He coloured. Mary was looking at him with kind interest. Mrs. Morres
sent him a quick glance--then looked away again.

"To be sure, you must go, Sir Robin," she said, in a serious voice. "I
was only jesting. Ah! here we are! So it is good-bye."

"Au revoir," he corrected.

"Well, au revoir. I hope you'll have a very happy time at Lugano. But
you are sure to."

A moment later they had gone off in their cab, and he was feeling the
blank of their absence.

CHAPTER XIX

WILD THYME AND VIOLETS

While Sir Robin and Mary Gray sat on that English hillside, Nelly and
her father walked on a hilly road above Lugano. The April afternoon was
Paradise. Below, the lake lay blue as a sapphire mirroring a sapphire
sky. The space between them and the lake's edge was tinged with a bloom
of bluish-rose, for all the almond groves were out in blossom. Below
them were drifts of sweet-scented narcissi. All around them lay the
mountains, Monte Rosa silver against the sapphire sky. Below the
fantastic houses clustered to the lake's edge in their little groves and
coppices of green.

They were talking of Robin's coming. The hour of his arrival was
som