y in her lap. Crossed legs gave me
twelve inches of slim silk stocking and a satin slipper, dainty
habiliments, not half so dainty as their slender charge....

The stable clock struck the half-hour.

Half-past six. People had been to tea--big-wigs--and we were resting
after our labours. It was the perfect evening of a true summer's day.

Nobby appeared in the foreground, strolling unconcernedly over the turf
and pausing now and again to snuff the air or follow up an odd clue of
scent that led him a foot or so before it died away and came to nothing.

"How," said Adele slowly, "did you come by Nobby?"

Painfully distinct, the wraith of Josephine Childe rose up before me,
pale and accusing. Fragments of the letter which had offered me the
Sealyham re-wrote themselves upon my brain.... _It nearly breaks my
heart to say so, but I've got to part with Nobby.... I think you'd get
on together ... if you'd like to have him._ ... And there was nothing in
it. It was a case of smoke without fire. But--I could have spared the
question just then....

Desperately I related the truth.

"A girl called Josephine Childe gave him to me. She wanted to find a
home for him, as she was going overseas."

"Oh."

The silence that followed this non-committal remark was most
discomfiting. I had a feeling that the moments were critical, and--they
were slipping away. Should I leap into the tide of explanation? That
way, perhaps, lay safety. Always the quicksand of _Qui s'excuse,
s'accuse_, made me draw back. I became extremely nervous.... Feverishly
I tried to think of a remark which would be natural and more or less
relevant, and would pilot us into a channel of conversation down which
we could swim with confidence. Of all the legion of topics, the clemency
of the weather alone occurred to me. I could have screamed....

The firebrand itself came to my rescue.

Tired of amusing himself, the terrier retrieved an old ball from beneath
the hedge and, trotting across the sward, laid it down at my feet.

Gratefully I picked it up and flung it for him to fetch.

It fell into a thick welter of ivy which Time had built into a bulging
buttress of greenery against the old grey wall at the end of the walk.

The dog sped after it, his short legs flying....

The spell was broken, and I felt better.

"You mustn't think he's a root, though," I said cheerfully, "because he
isn't. When did you say your birthday was?"

"I didn't," said Adele. "Stil