he time.

A thought suddenly occurred to her. Yes, it was quite possible--probable
even--that she might find Roger at the meet! The place appointed was a
long way from Heston, but in the old days he had often sent on a fresh
horse by train to a local station. They had had many a run together over
the fields now coming into sight. Though certainly if he imagined there
were the very smallest chance of finding her there, he would give this
particular meet a wide berth.

Chloe laughed aloud. His resistance--and his weakness--were both so
amusing. She thought of the skill--the peremptory smiling skill--with
which she had beguiled him into the garden, on the day when the young
couple paid their first call at Upcott. First, the low-spoken words at
the back of the drawing-room, while Mrs. Barnes and the Duchess were
skirmishing--

"I _must_ speak to you. Something that concerns another
person--something urgent."

Whereupon, unwilling and rather stern compliance on the man's part--the
handsome face darkened with most unnecessary frowns. And in the garden,
the short colloquy between them--"Of course, I see--you haven't forgiven
me! Never mind! I am doing this for someone else--it's a duty." Then
abruptly--"You still have three of my letters."

Amusing again--his shock of surprise, his blundering denials! He always
was the most unmethodical and unbusiness-like of mortals--poor Roger!
She heard her own voice in reply. "Oh yes, you have. I don't make
mistakes about such things. Do you remember the letter in which I told
you about that affair of Theresa Weightman?"

A stare--an astonished admission. Precisely!

"Well, she's in great trouble. Her husband threatens absurdities. She
has always confided in me--she trusts me, and I can't have that letter
wandering about the world."

"I certainly sent it back!"

"No--you never sent it back. You have three of mine. And you know how
careless you are--how you leave things about. I was always on
tenterhooks. Look again, _please_! You must have some idea where they
might be."

Perplexity--annoyance!

"When we sold the London house, all papers and documents were sent down
here. We reserved a room--which was locked up."

"_A la bonne heure!_ Of course--there they are."

But all the same--great unwillingness to search. It was most unlikely he
would be able to find anything--most unlikely there was anything to
find. He was sure he had sent back everything. And then a look in the
f