t a very good name. . . . In fact I'd rather you
didn't see too much of him unless Rose or I were there: it was
cheek of him to come up this afternoon when I was out, considering
that he scarcely knows you: but I suppose he thinks the Wancote show
gives him right of entry. That is the sort of thing a chap like Hyde
does think. Now begin again and tell me what it's all about."

"Oh, nothing, Val, nothing!" said Isabel, laughing, though the
tears were not far from her eyes. "I didn't know you could get
in such a wax if you tried! It's as you say, a little mystery of
nothing at all. I'd tell you like a shot if I could, but I can't
because it would be breaking a promise."

"Hyde had no earthly right to make you promise."

"It was of my own accord."

"It is all wrong," said Val. "Promises and silly secrets between
a child like you and a fellow like Hyde!" He was more grave and
vexed than Isabel had ever seen him. "There must be no more of
it."

"There won't if I can help it!" said Isabel. "I like Captain
Hyde--yes, I do: I know you don't, and I can quite see that he's
what Rose would call a bit of an outsider, but I'm sorry for him
and there's a great deal I like in him. But I don't want to see
him again for years and years." She gave a little shiver of
distaste: if anything had been wanting to heighten the reaction
of her youth against Hyde's stained middle age, the evasions in
which he had involved her would have done it. "Now don't scold
me any more! I'm innocent, and I feel rather sad. The world
looks unhomely this afternoon. All except you! You stay there
where I can watch you: you're so comfortably English, so nice and
cool and quiet! There's no one like you, no one: the more I see
of other people the more I like you! I'm so glad you don't wear
linen clothes and a Panama hat and rings. I'd give you away if
you did with half a pound of tea. No, it's no use asking me any
more questions because I shan't answer them: a promise is all the
more binding if one would rather not keep it. No, and it's no
use fishing either, I can keep a secret as well as you can--"

She broke off before the white alteration in Val's face.

"Has--.

"No," said Isabel slowly: "no, he never mentioned your name."

CHAPTER XI

"Val"

"M'm."

"I say"

"What, then?"

"What's all this about the Etchingham agency?"

Val Stafford, smoking a well-earned pipe some hours later in the
evening sunlight on the