was nowhere to be found. She had
gone out riding, Maud said, immediately after luncheon, and he realized
with some disgust that he had forgotten to tell her on the previous day
of his coming.

"She will be in to tea, dear," Maud said, and he was obliged to content
himself with the prospect of seeing her and acquainting her with
Saltash's energetic interest on their behalf after the visitors had gone.
He had never felt less in the mood for entertaining casual friends than
he felt on that sunny afternoon in September as he lounged in the wide
stable-yard and waited for them. He had always liked Sheila Melrose, they
had a good deal in common. But curiously enough it was that very fact
that made him strangely reluctant to meet her now. In some inexplicable
fashion, he found her simple directness disconcerting. Toby's words stuck
obstinately in his mind, refusing to be dislodged. "She likes you well
enough not to want you to marry me." He realized beyond question that
those words had not been without some significance. It might be just
instinct with her, as Toby had declared, but that Sheila regarded his
engagement as a mistake he was fairly convinced. That she herself had any
feeling for him beyond that of friendship he did not for a moment
imagine. Bunny had no vanity in that direction. There was too much of the
boy, too much of the frank comrade, in his disposition for that. They
were pals, and the idea of anything deeper than palship on either side
had never seriously crossed his mind. He was honest in all his ways, and
his love for Toby--that wild and wonderful flower of first love--filled
all his conscious thoughts to the exclusion of aught beside. The odd,
sweet beauty of her had him in thrall. She was so totally different from
everyone else he had ever encountered. He felt the lure of her more and
more with every meeting, the wonder and the charm.

But Sheila did not want him to marry her, and a very natural feeling of
irritation against her possessed him in consequence. Doubtless Sheila had
a perfect right to her opinions, but she might keep them to herself.
Between Saltash's headlong resolve to help and Sheila's veiled desire to
hinder, he felt that his course was becoming too complicated, as if in
spite of his utmost efforts to guide his own craft there were contrary
currents at work that he was powerless to avoid.

He had an urgent desire for Toby that afternoon, and he was inclined
somewhat unreasonably to re