her and determined he should
remain. That woman is variable, was a song he knew by heart, and he also
knew that woman is apt to do one thing and mean another--to dismiss, for
instance, the very man whom she wishes most at her feet.

These ruminations, however long in the telling, did not in reality
outlast a moment's space. It was all very clear to him now, and his
blood pulsed quickly.

"If _you_ tell me so, I must indeed be wrong," he answered. "And let me
add," he continued, impetuously, "it is a boon to know it."

To his face a flush had come, and his eyes were eager. He had never been
accounted anything else than good-looking, but now he was attractive as
well.

"You will not be in haste to go, then?"

"In haste to go--" His face completed the sentence. "Tell her from me,"
he was about to say, when from the girl's loosening fingers the basket
fell; she drooped like a flower, her eyes half closed, and he had but
the time to hold out his arm when she sank unconscious on it.

The grass seemed an inviting couch, and very gently he let her from him.
"It is the heat," he reflected, and kneeling at her side he took her
small hand and beat it with his own. "What shall I do?" he wondered.
Her cheeks were colorless, though her lips were red, and as, in his
perplexity, he gazed at them, he saw them move. "Kiss me," they seemed
to say. Her eyes opened and she smiled.

And still he stared. "Merciful heaven!" he thought; "she thinks I am in
love with _her_;" and feigning that the invitation had passed unheard he
sprang to his feet.

"Help me," she murmured, smiling still; and as he bent again to aid her,
before him in the coppice stood Mrs. Lyeth. Already the girl was on her
feet. Whether she had been aware of Mrs. Lyeth's approach, who shall
say? She patted out a rumpled fold of her frock, and picking the basket
up, glanced over at her father's choice.

"I almost fell," she announced. "Mr. Ennever was gallant enough to
prevent me."

In single file all three then returned to tiffin at the bungalow.

IV.

The afternoon slipped by like a chapter in a fairy tale. It promised but
it did not fulfil, and at dinner the champagne sparkled, but the
conversation was flat. When the cloth was removed the general manifested
a desire to look over some papers, and Tancred and the ladies retreated
to the pavilion beyond. Yet even there the wheels of talk were clogged.
Mrs. Lyeth indeed discoursed amiably enough on the subje