ked round impulsively.

"Nance and I were quarrelling," she said.

"Quarrelling! What on earth about?" Gore looked amusedly from one to
the other.

"Oh, about----"

But Nance interrupted by stepping quickly forward.

"About nothing!" she said hastily. "How are you, Walter? I'm so glad to
see you! But I must wash my hands before I even try to talk. Heliotrope
is much stickier than you'd think." She looked down at her fingers,
then laughed and moved across the room. But as Gore hurried forward to
open the door for her, she glanced up into his face with an almost
serious look.

"I'm so glad you have come back!" she whispered. "Make up to her for
the time you've been away!"

Gore's feelings were very pleasant, very protective, as he closed the
door and turned back into the room. He was too essentially an Englishman
to be very demonstrative; but the leaven of sentiment that so often lies
in the English character had always held a place in his nature. In
confessing his love to Clodagh--in acknowledging that love to
himself--he had indisputably swept aside some difficulties--difficulties
born of inherent prejudice, of a certain stiff-necked distrust of what
he had begun by criticising. But they had been thrust aside. He had
acknowledged himself stirred to the depths of nature by something
brilliant and vivid in her personality. He had made his choice.

His whole expression, his whole bearing, was attractive as he came
towards her; he seemed to carry about him a breath of the country--the
clean, open spaces of the country. And her heart gave a throb of pride
and satisfaction, of complete, ungrudging admiration, as he took her
hands again and drew her to him.

"Well!" he said fondly--"well! Have you really missed me as much as
your letters said?"

For a moment she remained silent, drinking in the joy of his presence.

"Won't you tell me?"

"In a moment--in one moment. Oh, Walter, the heavenly rest of knowing
that you care!"

Then suddenly shaking off her seriousness, she drew away from him,
looking up into his face with eyes that shone strangely.

"I'm not crying, Walter!" she exclaimed. "I'm only--frantically happy!"
She gave a little gasp, followed by a little laugh.

And Gore, carried away by her charm, by the unconscious flattery of her
words, caught her suddenly in his arms, and, bending his face to hers,
kissed her passionately.

At last they drew apart, laughing; and Clodagh moved across the room to