e bridge-party at the Edenhall flat,
she had neither seen nor heard from him, and during those five silent
weeks she had come to recognise the fact that Peter meant much more to
her than merely a friend, just as he himself had realised that she was
the one woman in the world for him. And between them, now and always,
stood Celia, the woman in possession.

"Well, then, what about Thursday next for going over to the kennels?
Are you disengaged?"

Trenby's voice broke suddenly across her reverie. She threw him a
brilliant smile.

"Yes. Thursday would do very well."

"Agreed, then. I'll call for you at half-past ten," said Trenby.
"Well"--rising reluctantly to his feet--"I must be moving on now. I
have to go over one of my off-farms before dinner, so I'll say
good-bye."

He lifted his cap and strode away, Nan watching his broad-shouldered
well-knit figure with reflective eyes, the while irrepressible little
gurgles and explosions of mirth emanated from the hammock.

At last Nan burst out irritably:

"What on earth are you giggling about, Kitty?"

"At the lion endeavouring to lie down with the lamb," submitted Kitty
meekly.

"Don't talk in parables."

"It's a very easy one to interpret"--Kitty succumbed once more to a
gale of laughter. "It was just too delicious to watch you and Roger
together! You'd much better leave him alone, my dear, and play with
the dolls you're used to."

"How detestable you are, Kitty. I promise you one thing--it's going to
be much worse for the lion than the lamb."

Mrs. Barry Seymour sat up suddenly, the laughter dying out of her eyes.

"Nan," she admonished, "you leave Roger alone. He's as Nature made him
and not fair game for such as you. Leave him to some simple country
maiden--Edna Langdon, for instance, who rides straight to hounds and
whose broad acres--or what will be her broad acres when Papa Langdon is
gathered--'march' with his."

"Surely I can out-general her?"--impertinently.

"Out-general her? Of course you can. But that's just what you mustn't
do. I won't allow you to play with Roger. He's too good a sort--even
if he is a bit heavy in hand."

"I agree. He's quite a good sort. But he needs educating. . . . And
perhaps I'm not going to 'play' with him."

"Not? Then what . . . Nan, you never mean to suggest that you're in
earnest?"

Nan regarded her consideringly.

"And why not, pray? Isn't he well-seeming? Hasn't he broad acres of
his own?