had been an old stable-loft----

"Do you remember when you fell down the ladder?" Christine asked him
laughingly. "And the way you bumped your head----"

"And the way you cried," Jimmy reminded her.

"Didn't she, Mrs. Wyatt?"

Mrs. Wyatt laughed.

"Don't refer to me, please," she said. "I am beginning to think that I
never knew half what you two did in those days."

Christine looked at Jimmy shyly.

"They were lovely days," she said with a sigh.

"Ripping!" Jimmy agreed. He tried to put great enthusiasm into his
voice, but in his heart he knew that he had long since outgrown the
simple pleasures that had seemed so great to him then. He thought of
Cynthia, and the wild Bohemianism of the weeks that had passed since he
first got engaged to her; that was life if you pleased, with a capital
letter. It seemed incredible that it was all ended and done with; that
Cynthia wanted him no longer; that his place in her life was filled by
another man; that he would never wait at the theatre for her any more;
never---- He caught his breath on a great sigh. Christine looked at
him with her brown eyes. She, at least, had never outgrown the old
days; to her they would always be the most wonderful of her whole life.

"And what are we going to do this afternoon?" Mrs. Wyatt asked when
lunch was ended.

"Anything you like," said Jimmy. "I am entirely at your disposal."

"Mother always likes a nap after lunch," said Christine laughing. "She
never will stir till she has had it."

"Very well; then you and I will go off somewhere together," said Jimmy
promptly. "At least"--he looked apologetically at Mrs. Wyatt--"if we
may?" he added.

"I think I can trust you with Christine," said Christine's mother.
"But you'll be in to tea?"

Jimmy promised. He did not really want to take Christine out. He did
not really want to do anything. He talked to Mrs. Wyatt while
Christine put on her hat and coat. When they left the hotel he asked
if she would like a taxi.

Christine laughed.

"Of course not. I love walking."

"Do you?" said Jimmy. He was faintly surprised. Cynthia would never
walk a step if she could help it. He pondered at the difference in the
two women.

They went to the Park. It was a fine, sunny afternoon, cold and crisp.

Christine wore soft brown furs, just the colour of her eyes, Jimmy
Challoner thought, and realised that her eyes would be very beautiful
to a man who liked dark eyes in preferenc