Miles quietly, "I perfectly understand."

He had grown very white beneath his tan, and Mrs Alliot, glancing
swiftly at him, felt a pang of compunction. Poor young fellow, it was
hard on him, if he really cared! Yet she had done no more than her duty
in warning him that he could not be allowed to disturb Cynthia's peace
of mind. So far, the girl was fancy free, but her interest in the
return of her boy-friend was so strong that a word, a look, a hint of
his own feeling might be sufficient to fan it into a stronger flame.

"But now that I have spoken he knows how things are, and he is a good
fellow! He will think of her before himself," said Cynthia's mother to
herself with a sigh of relief.

For the rest of the way to the house Mrs Alliot talked on impersonal
subjects, and Miles answered with colourless politeness; then, at last,
across a wide green lawn, a sun shelter came into view, in which Betty
could be discerned, and someone else in a white dress lying on a couch
banked up with blue cushions.

"There are the girls! Don't wait for me! Go across the lawn," said
Mrs Alliot kindly.

When one has dealt the one great blow, it is easy enough to make
trifling concessions, reflected Miles bitterly, as he strode forward;
but the next moment all bitterness died away as he grasped a thin white
hand, and looked down into a face which was at once strange, and
exquisitely familiar. Cynthia, but Cynthia as a woman, no longer a
schoolgirl; Cynthia with her golden mane wound smoothly round her head,
with blue shadows under the sweet eyes, and hollows where the dimples
used to dip in the rounded cheeks. At the first glance the air of
delicacy was painfully pronounced, but as she smiled and flushed, the
old merry Cynthia looked at him once more.

"Miles! Is it really you? I can hardly believe it! Such a great, big
man! Oh, but I'm glad! I'm glad to see you again! Sit down, sit down.
Let me see you properly. I mayn't get up from this horrid couch. Yes,
it's you! I'd know your eyes anywhere, and the moustache is nice--a
very fine moustache, Miles! I'm glad the beard is off. I like your
square chin. It is lovely to have you all here, and to know you have
not to run away in a few hours. I'm looking forward immensely to the
next week. Old Miles! It _is_ good to see you!"

She laughed and coughed, and lent back against the cushions, pushing
them into place with an impatient hand; while Miles stared at her in a