began to smoke a reflective cigar, for he
knew now who Mrs. Leland was. In twenty minutes or less Cynthia came
to him. It was difficult to account for her obvious perplexity, though
he could have revealed some of its secret springs readily enough.

"I'm sorry I shall not be able to take that walk, Mr. Fitzroy," she
said, frankly recognizing the tacit pact between them. "We have a long
day before us to-morrow, and we must make Chester in good time, as
Mrs. Leland is coming alone from London. Meanwhile, I must attend to
my correspondence."

"Ah. You have spoken to Mr. Vanrenen, then?"

"No. He was not in the hotel, but he left a message for me, knowing
that I was more likely to 'phone than wire."

She was troubled, disturbed, somewhat resentful of this unforeseen
change in the programme arranged for the next few days. Medenham could
have chosen no more unhappy moment for what he had to say, but during
those twenty minutes of reflection a definite line of action had been
forced upon him, and he meant to follow it to the only logical end.

"I am glad now that I mentioned my own little difficulty at Hereford,"
he said. "Since alterations are to be the order of the day at Chester,
will you allow me to provide another driver for the Mercury there? You
will retain the car, of course, but my place can be taken by a
trustworthy man who understands it quite as well as I do."

"You mean that you are dropping out of the tour, then?"

"Yes."

She shot one indignant glance at his impassive face, for he held in
rigid control the fire that was consuming him.

"Rather a sudden resolve on your part, isn't it? What earthly
difference does the presence of another lady in our party make?"

"I have been thinking matters over," he said doggedly. "Would you mind
reading my father's letter?"

He held out the note received at the Green Dragon, but she ignored it.

"I take it for granted that you have the best of reasons for wishing
to go," she murmured.

"Please oblige me by reading it," he persisted.

Perhaps, despite all his self-restraint, some hint of the wild longing
in his heart to tell her once and for all that no power under that of
the Almighty should tear him from her side moved her to relent. She
took the letter, and began to read.

"Why," she cried, "this was written at Hereford?"

"Yes. My father waited there all night. He left for town only a few
minutes before I entered the hotel this morning."

She read with p