to take on such a risk as matrimony
till I've had time to recover my nerve."

Lady Arabella surveyed them both with a species of irritated approval.

"And to think," she burst out at last, indignantly, "of all the hours
I've spent having my silly portrait painted and getting cramp in my
stiff old joints, and that even then it needed Providence to threaten
you both with a watery grave to bring you up to the scratch!"

"Well, we're engaged now," submitted Magda meekly.

Lady Arabella chuckled sardonically.

"If you weren't, you'd have to be--after last night!" she commented
drily.

"No one need know about last night," retorted Magda.

"Huh!" Lady Arabella snorted. "Half Netherway will know the tale by
midday. And you may be sure your best enemy will hear of it. They always
do."

"Never mind. It will make an excellent advertisement," observed Magda
philosophically. "Can't you see it in all the papers?--'NARROW ESCAPE OF
THE WIELITZSKA.' In big capitals."

They all laughed, realising the great amount of probability contained
in her forecast. And, thanks to an enterprising young journalist who
chanced to be prowling about Netherway on that particular day, the
London newspapers flared out into large headlines, accompanied by vivid
and picturesque details of the narrow escape while yachting of the
famous dancer and of the well-known artist, Michael Quarrington--who,
in some of the cheaper papers, was credited with having saved the
Wielitzska's life by swimming ashore with her.

The immediate result was an augmented post-bag for the Hermitage, and
Gillian had to waste the better part of a couple of sunshiny days
in writing round to Magda's friends assuring them of her continued
existence and wellbeing, and thanking them for their kind inquiries.

It was decided to keep the engagement private for the present, and life
at the Hermitage resumed the even tenor of its way, Magda continuing to
sit daily for the picture of Circe which Michael was anxious to complete
before she returned to London for the autumn season.

"It's _our_ picture now, Saint Michel," she told him, with a happy,
possessive pride in his work.

In this new atmosphere of tranquil happiness Magda bloomed like a flower
in the sun. To the nameless natural charm which was always hers there
was added a fresh sweetness and appeal, and the full revelation of
her love for him startled even Michael. He had not realised the deep
capacity for love which had l