and when he asked me to let him kiss me, I did. I don't see any harm
in that, do you? And then this morning he said he'd thought I meant
something more, and I wasn't the sort to let any one kiss me. And we
talked and talked. I daresay I was very silly, but one can't help liking
people when one's sorry for them. I do like him most awfully--" She
paused. "So I gave him half a promise, and then, you see, there's Alfred
Perrott."

"Oh, Perrott," said Hewet.

"We got to know each other on that picnic the other day," she continued.
"He seemed so lonely, especially as Arthur had gone off with Susan, and
one couldn't help guessing what was in his mind. So we had quite a long
talk when you were looking at the ruins, and he told me all about his
life, and his struggles, and how fearfully hard it had been. D'you know,
he was a boy in a grocer's shop and took parcels to people's houses in
a basket? That interested me awfully, because I always say it doesn't
matter how you're born if you've got the right stuff in you. And he told
me about his sister who's paralysed, poor girl, and one can see she's a
great trial, though he's evidently very devoted to her. I must say I do
admire people like that! I don't expect you do because you're so clever.
Well, last night we sat out in the garden together, and I couldn't help
seeing what he wanted to say, and comforting him a little, and telling
him I did care--I really do--only, then, there's Raymond Oliver. What I
want you to tell me is, can one be in love with two people at once, or
can't one?"

She became silent, and sat with her chin on her hands, looking very
intent, as if she were facing a real problem which had to be discussed
between them.

"I think it depends what sort of person you are," said Hewet. He
looked at her. She was small and pretty, aged perhaps twenty-eight or
twenty-nine, but though dashing and sharply cut, her features expressed
nothing very clearly, except a great deal of spirit and good health.

"Who are you, what are you; you see, I know nothing about you," he
continued.

"Well, I was coming to that," said Evelyn M. She continued to rest her
chin on her hands and to look intently ahead of her. "I'm the daughter
of a mother and no father, if that interests you," she said. "It's not a
very nice thing to be. It's what often happens in the country. She was
a farmer's daughter, and he was rather a swell--the young man up at the
great house. He never made things stra