he wood with a preoccupied expression on her
pretty face, which showed me that it was in reality no petty trouble
which worried her.

"This scene is so delightfully restful. I love the cool green lights and
the cool grey shadows of the woodlands in early summer," she remarked
absently.

I had no eyes for aught but the face of the speaker, though I was
indirectly conscious that there was a good deal of beauty in the wood.
To me it seemed an appropriate background, that was all.

"Yes," I said. "But about this presentiment of yours----"

"It is hardly a presentiment; in fact, I don't know what to call it,"
she replied. Then she turned and faced me. "Now listen. There's an
acquaintance of mine, whom I know very well and used to like a great
deal. Yes, I think I am right in saying used to like. Well, for some
undefined reason, my liking has change to something very like fear."

"For what reason?" I asked.

"None," she replied. "Absolutely there is no reason whatever."

"A case of Dr. Fell," I said. "Well, avoid your Dr. Fell."

"That is exactly what I am unable to do," she answered, and I could see
she was speaking truly. "This fear has grown up in some degree, I think,
from a subtle sort of consciousness that the person in question has it
in his power to exert a curious influence over me. I seem to be drawn
against my will into an attitude towards him which is not only against
my judgment, but also against my inclination."

"Him?" I asked. "Him? Is it Mannering?"

"Why, what made you think of him? Does he affect you in the same way?"
she said eagerly.

"Far from it," I replied. My first feeling was one of delight at
discovering that my rival was more feared than loved. But as I thought
over the matter, my astonishment grew. I had looked upon Mannering as a
rival, and as a favoured rival, but I was not prepared to hear that Evie
Maitland was afraid of him, or of any other man for the matter of that,
and I said so.

"A month ago, I should have laughed at the idea myself," she replied,
"but to-day----" She shuddered slightly. "Now you know why I feel so gay
this morning. The fact is, when on awakening this morning I realized
that I should be absolutely free from his presence for two whole days, I
hardly knew how to contain myself for joy."

"Surely you must have some grounds for fearing him, something in his
manner----"

"No. Yet I have thought--but it is nothing. When we have been alone
together he has sat