pose Fleur cares very much; she's very up-to-date."

"Her mother!"

"You're very green, Jon."

Jon grew red. "Mothers," he stammered angrily, "are different."

"You're right," said Val suddenly; "but things aren't what they were
when I was your age. There's a 'Tomorrow we die' feeling. That's what
old George meant about my uncle Soames. HE doesn't mean to die
tomorrow."

Jon said quickly: "What's the matter between him and my father?"

"Stable secret, Jon. Take my advice, and bottle up. You'll do no good
by knowing. Have a liqueur?"

Jon shook his head.

"I hate the way people keep things from one," he muttered, "and then
sneer at one for being green."

"Well, you can ask Holly. If SHE won't tell you, you'll believe it's
for your own good, I suppose."

Jon got up. "I must go now; thanks awfully for the lunch."

Val smiled up at him, half-sorry and yet amused. The boy looked so
upset.

"All right! See you on Friday."

"I don't know," murmured Jon.

And he did not. This conspiracy of silence made him desperate. It was
humiliating to be treated like a child. He retraced his moody steps to
Stratton Street. But he would go to her Club now, and find out the
worst. To his inquiry the reply was that Miss Forsyte was not in the
Club. She might be in perhaps later. She was often in on Monday--they
could not say. Jon said he would call again, and, crossing into the
Green Park, flung himself down under a tree. The sun was bright, and a
breeze fluttered the leaves of the young lime-tree beneath which he
lay; but his heart ached. Such darkness seemed gathered round his
happiness. He heard Big Ben chime "Three" above the traffic. The sound
moved something in him, and taking out a piece of paper, he began to
scribble on it with a pencil. He had jotted a stanza, and was searching
the grass for another verse, when something hard touched his
shoulder--a green parasol. There above him stood Fleur!

"They told me you'd been, and were coming back. So I thought you might
be out here; and you are--it's rather wonderful!"

"Oh, Fleur! I thought you'd have forgotten me."

"When I told you that I shouldn't!"

Jon seized her arm.

"It's too much luck! Let's get away from this side."

He almost dragged her on through that too thoughtfully regulated Park,
to find some cover where they could sit and hold each other's hands.

"Hasn't anybody cut in?" he said, gazing round at her lashes, in
suspense above her cheeks.

"The