th evident relief said, "I'm very glad of that; very. Do you
mind telling me how you know?"

"By intuition," she said, without a trace of raillery in her face or her
tone.

I forgave her for ignoring me when she said that. I felt that I could
almost forgive Jervaise; he was so deliciously sold.

"But you've surely some other grounds for certainty besides--intuition?"
he insisted anxiously.

"What other grounds could I possibly have?" Anne asked.

"They haven't, either of them, confided in you?"

"Confided? What sort of things?"

"That there was, or might be, any--any sort of understanding between
them?"

"I know that they have met--occasionally."

"Lately! Where?"

"Brenda has been having lessons in driving the motor."

"Oh! yes, I know that. You didn't mean that they had been meeting here?"

"No, I didn't mean that," Anne said definitely. All through that quick
alternation of question and answer she had, as it were, surrendered her
gaze to him; watching him with a kind of meek submission as if she were
ready to do anything she could to help him in his inquiry. And it was very
plain to me that Jervaise was flattered and pleased by her attitude. If I
had attempted Anne's method, he would have scowled and brow-beaten me
unmercifully, but now he really looked almost pleasant.

"It's very good of you to help me like this, Miss Banks," he said, "and
I'm very grateful to you. I do apologise, most sincerely for dragging you
out of bed at such an unholy hour, but I'm sure you appreciate my--our
anxiety."

"Oh! of course," she agreed, with a look that I thought horribly
sympathetic.

I began to wonder if my first estimate of her--based to a certain extent,
perhaps, on Jervaise's admission that she did not like him--had not been
considerably too high. She might, after all, be just an ordinary charming
woman, enlivened by a streak of minx, and eager enough to catch the heir
of Jervaise if he were available. How low my thought of her must have sunk
at that moment! But they were, now, exchanging courtesies with an air that
gave to their commonplaces the effect of a flirtation.

I distracted my attention. I couldn't help hearing what they said, but I
could refrain from looking at Anne. She was becoming vivacious, and I
found myself strangely disliking her vivacity. It was then that I began to
take note of the furnishing of the room which, when I considered it, was
so peculiarly not in the manner of the familiar En