eyes.

"Shall we?" she whispered.

"Yes, yes. Say you will."

She looked away suddenly over the sunlit park. Then she spoke very
slowly.

"I'm trusting you rather a lot, aren't I?" she said.

"Yes," I said quietly.

"But since you make such a point--"

I took her hand. As I raised it, she turned, and we looked each other
full in the eyes.

Said I: "This point is a point of honour."

Then I kissed her small, gloved fingers.

A moment later the car swept out of the avenue, under an old gateway
and into a fair courtyard, which I seemed to have seen before in the
pages of Country Life. The house was beautiful. There it lay, in the
hot sunshine, all grey and warm and peaceful--a perfect specimen of the
Tudor period, and about its walls a tattered robe of wisteria. It
seemed to be smiling in its sleep. As we drove up to the great stone
steps, the studded door was opened and a manservant appeared. The car
stopped.

"Oh, I'm afraid," whispered my companion.

"Play up," I whispered back. "It's all right."

"No, no. I'm afraid. I don't know what to say to them."

The footman opened the door, and I got out. As I handed her out, her
hand was trembling terribly. Suddenly there was a scrambling noise,
and a great black and white Newfoundland came bounding down the steps.
When he saw us, he stopped.

"Oh, you darling." said my companion.

The dog looked at her for a moment uncertainly. Then he threw up his
head and barked twice, wagging his tail. She put out her hand and
stroked his head. The great fellow whined with pleasure. Then he took
her hand in his mouth and turned up the steps once more.

"Oh, look!" she cried delightedly. "He's leading me in."

The situation was saved. I followed thankfully. As I entered the hall:

"He has taken to your ladyship," a gentle housekeeper was saying.
"It's not many he welcomes like that."

The woman bowed to me, and turned towards the staircase. Mechanically
I took the two letters from the salver the footman was holding out.
Then I thought of something. I looked at the girl. She was half-way
up the stairs.

"Er--darling," I said.

She swung round and stopped, flushing furiously. Then:

"Yes, dear?"

I went to where she was standing. The housekeeper was twenty paces
away at the top of the stairs. I spoke as carelessly as I could, and
in an undertone.

"They will want to unpack your things. Also they will soon know that
there is no