visitor rose to go; approaching May, she first shook hands and then
stood for a moment with a half-expectant half-imploring air. It was plain
that she suggested a kiss. Marchmont looked on rather amused; he knew
that May Quisante was not given to effusiveness. It would, however, have
been cruel not to kiss Lady Mildmay, and May kissed her with an excellent
grace.

"Well," said Marchmont when the door was shut, "she takes defeat
prettily. Evidently you've made a conquest, as well as your husband."

"I wish she wouldn't come here," said May, wandering to the window and
speaking in a disconsolate voice.

"You don't like her?"

"Like her? Oh, of course I like the dear creature! Who wouldn't? And I
like him too." She turned round, smiling a little. "He's so nice, and
large, and clean, and direct, and obvious, and simple, you know. I like
him just as I like a great rosy apple."

"Hum! I don't eat many of those, do you?"

She laughed, but rather reluctantly. "Perhaps that's more your fault than
the apple's. Still I agree. A bite now and then. But they're mostly only
to dress the table."

"Why don't you want her to come?"

May sat down and fidgeted with a nick-nack on the table.

"Don't you think being forgiven's rather tiresome work?" she asked. "They
don't mean that, I know, but I can't help feeling as if they did."

"I don't see why you should."

She looked full at him for a moment. "No, I didn't suppose you would see
it," she said. "Don't stand there, come and sit here,--near me. I've
written you three letters, but you don't seem to understand yet that I
want to see you." He took the chair near her to which she had pointed;
she looked at him, evidently with both pleasure and amusement. "You don't
look the least as if you'd been electioneering," she told him in an
admiring congratulatory tone.

"I've had the egg-marks brushed off," he explained with the insincere
gravity that he knew she liked.

"Will they brush off? Will they always brush off?" she asked, her voice
low, her hands nursing her knee, her eyes on his.

"Parables, my lady?"

"Yes. Do you know that we won the election because rosy Sir Winterton was
supposed to have flirted with his keeper's daughter, and wouldn't say he
hadn't, and wouldn't bring that dear soul where anybody was likely to say
he had?"

"No, I hadn't heard that. I thought your husband's----"

"Oh, yes, all that helped. He was splendid. But we shouldn't have done it
without t