pink."

"Scarlet, you mean," amended Billy. "So have I, old chap; but that's
another pair o' boots, as you very well know."

"Oh, don't be vulgar," sighed Ronnie, wearily. "Let's cut the whole thing
and go to town. Henley begins to-morrow."

But next day they turned up at Shenstone, earlier than usual.

And that morning, Lady Ingleby was feeling strangely restful and at
peace; not with any expectations of future happiness; but resigned to the
inevitable; and less apart from Jim Airth. She had fallen asleep the
night before beset by haunting memories of Cornwall and of their climb up
the cliff. At midnight she had awakened with a start, fancying herself on
the ledge, and feeling that she was falling. But instantly Jim Airth's
arms seemed to enfold her; she felt herself drawn into safety; then that
exquisite sense of strength and rest was hers once more.

So vivid had been the dream, that its effect remained with her when she
rose. Thus she sat watching the tennis with a little smile of content on
her sweet face.

"She is beginning to forget," thought Ronnie, exultant. "_My_ 'vantage!"
he shouted significantly to Billy, over the net.

"Deuce!" responded Billy, smashing down the ball with unnecessary
violence.

"No!" cried Ronnie. "Outside, my boy! Game and a 'love' set to me!"

"Stay to lunch, boys," said Lady Ingleby, as the gong sounded; and they
all three went gaily into the house.

As they passed through the hall afterwards, their motor stood at the
door; so they bade her good-bye, and turned to find their rackets.

At that moment they heard the sharp ting of a bicycle bell. A boy had
ridden up with a telegram. Groatley, waiting to see them off, took it;
picked up a silver salver from the hall table, and followed Lady Ingleby
to her sitting-room.

There seemed so sudden a silence in the house, that Ronald and Billy with
one accord stood listening.

"Twenty minutes to two," said Billy, glancing at the clock. "Spirits are
walking."

The next moment a cry rang out from Lady Ingleby's sitting-room--a cry of
such mingled bewilderment, wonder, and relief, that they looked at one
another in amazement. Then without waiting to question or consider, they
hastened to her.

Lady Ingleby was standing in the middle of the room, an open telegram in
her hand.

"Jim," she was saying; "Oh, Jim!"

Her face was so transfigured by thankfulness and joy, that neither Ronald
nor Billy could frame a question. They merel