at _shall I_ do about clothes? I can't
go off in a motor-car with----" The rest was lost in distance.

The two walked without speaking as far as the big, spouting rose-bush
and the junction where two paths met. Then, choosing the path which
avoided the house, Aline took her life in her hands.

"You mentioned that telegram to Mrs. MacDonald?"

"Yes," confessed Somerled. "The subject came up--accidentally."

"What did she say? I want you to tell me. Afterward I'll explain--why."

"She said that she hadn't sent any telegram; and I saw at once that you
must have made a mistake."

"You needn't put it that way to save my feelings!" Aline caught him up,
panting a little, not trying to calm herself. "You knew that I had--told
you a fib. Be honest with me. You must. And I'll be honest with you."

"I'm glad you're talking to me like this," said Somerled simply,
"because I was puzzled, I admit. I couldn't bear to think----"

"I know exactly what you couldn't bear to think," she cut in, letting
herself break into a sob. "You thought: 'Mrs. West has told me a
deliberate lie because she's jealous of that child, and doesn't want me
to take her in the car.' Oh, don't deny it. I _know_. And it's true. I
_was_ jealous, I don't dislike the poor little thing. Why should I?
She's too insignificant, too much a child in intellect as well as years.
But--I wanted you to ourselves. It was horrid of me. Only you can't
imagine how I've looked forward to this trip, ever since the day you
asked us to take it with you. Before that I was bored with the idea of
writing the book we've promised our publishers. Our going with you made
all the difference to me. You see, we got to be such friends on
shipboard--that last night. I _am_ a jealous friend. I admit it. And it
was such a blow to have a stranger thrust upon us--to have _you_ thrust
her upon us--when you might have guessed how I felt, if we're friends.
The telegram this morning was from Sir George. It told me that Mrs. Bal
was coming to Edinburgh. Instantly I _knew_ you'd ask that girl to go
with us there in the car--oh, simply in your kindness of heart to a
waif. But I couldn't bear it. I saw everything spoiled--for us all, even
you. I was like a disappointed child. I had to do _something_--and on
the impulse I made up that fib. I'm not sorry even now--I think. Yet I
did mean to tell you, sooner or later, the truth. Honestly, I shouldn't
have kept silence long if you hadn't found out. I'm no