estion of amusement
at the back of his eyes, and she was annoyed to feel herself flushing
uncomfortably beneath his scrutiny. At last he spoke again.

"You seem to have a faculty for intrusion," he remarked drily.

Sara's eyes flashed.

"And you, a fancy for solitude," she retorted.

"Exactly." He bowed ironically. "Perhaps you would oblige me by
considering it?" And he drew politely aside as though to let her pass
out in front of him.

Sara cast a dismayed glance at the rain, which was still descending in
torrents. Then she turned to him indignantly.

"Do you mean that you're going to insist on my starting out in this
storm?" she demanded.

"Don't you know that you've no right to be here at all--that you're
trespassing?" he parried coolly.

"Of course I know it! But I didn't expect that any one in the world
would object to my trespassing in the circumstances!"

"You must not judge me by other people," he replied composedly. "I am
not--like them."

"You're not, indeed," agreed Sara warmly.

"And your tone implies 'thanks be,'" he supplemented with a faint
smile. "Oh, well," he went on ungraciously, "stay if you like--so long
as you don't expect me to stay with you."

Sara hastily disclaimed any such desire, and, lifting his cap, he turned
and strode away into the rain.

Another ten minutes crawled by, and still the rain came down as
persistently as though it intended never to cease again. Sara fidgeted,
and walked across impatiently to the open front of the summer-house,
staring up moodily at the heavy clouds. They showed no signs of
breaking, and she was just about to resume her weary waiting on the
seat within the shelter, when quick steps sounded to her left, and Garth
Trent reappeared, carrying an umbrella and with a man's overcoat thrown
over his arm.

"It's going to rain for a good two hours yet," he said abruptly. "You'd
better come up to the house."

Sara gazed at him in silent amazement; the invitation was so totally
unexpected that for the moment she had no answer ready.

"Unless," he added sneeringly, misinterpreting her silence, "you're
afraid of the proprieties?"

"I'm far more afraid of taking cold," she replied promptly, preparing to
evacuate the summer-house.

"Here, put this on," he said gruffly, holding out the coat he had
brought with him. "There's no object in getting any wetter than you
must."

He helped her into the coat, buttoning it carefully under her chin, his
dextero