d have
appealed to him instantly--for that, he realized with a sigh, he was
born many centuries too late. For weeks he wandered about London in a
highly unsatisfied condition. Then one afternoon, in the waning of a
misty October day, he came face to face with Wilhelmina in Bond Street.

She was stepping into her motor brougham when she saw him. He had no
opportunity for escape, even if he had desired it. Her tired lips were
suddenly curved into a most bewildering smile. She withdrew her hand
from her muff and offered it to him--for the first time.

"So you are still in London, Mr. Macheson," she said. "I am very glad to
see you."

The words were unlike her, the tone was such as he had never heard her
use. Do what he could, he could not help the answering light which
sprang into his own eyes.

"I am still in London," he said. "I thought you were to go to
Marienbad?"

"I left it until it was too late," she answered. "Walk a little way with
me," she added abruptly. "I should like to talk to you."

"If I may," he answered simply.

She dismissed the brougham, and they moved on.

"I am sorry," she began, "that I was rude to you when you brought that
girl to me. You did exactly what was nice and kind, and I was hateful.
Please forgive me."

"Of course," he answered simply. "I felt sure that when you thought it
over you would understand."

"You are not going back--to Thorpe?" she asked.

"Not at present, at any rate," he answered.

She looked up at him with a faint smile.

"You can have the barn," she said.

His eyes answered her smile, but his tone was grave.

"I have given that up--for a little time, at any rate," he said. "I mean
that particular sort of work."

"My villagers must content themselves with Mr. Vardon, then," she
remarked.

He nodded.

"Perhaps," he said, "ours was a mistaken enterprise. I am not sure. But
at any rate, so far as Thorpe is concerned, I have abandoned it for the
present."

She was walking close to his side, so close that the hand which raised
her skirt as they crossed the street touched his, and her soft breath as
she leaned over and spoke fell upon his cheek.

"Why?"

He felt the insidious meaning of her whispered monosyllable, he felt her
eyes striving to make him look at her. His cheeks were flushed, but he
looked steadily ahead.

"There were several reasons," he said.

"Do tell me," she begged; "I am curious."

"For one," he said steadily, "I did an unjust thi