y?"

Sir Roger smiled gently.

"Surprised?" he asked.

Charlie ignored the question.

"And you aren't going to hurry?" he inquired.

"Why should we?"

Charlie sat silent. It was tolerably plain that, unless the few days
en route were very few indeed, John Ashforth and Mary Travers were in a
fair way to be prosperously and peacefully married before Dora Bellairs
set foot in England. And if he stayed with the Bellairs', before he
did, either! Charlie lit a cigarette and sat puffing and thinking.

"Dashed nice girl, Dora Bellairs," observed Sir Roger.

"Think so?"

"I do. She's the only girl I ever saw that Laing was smitten with."

"Laing!" said Charlie.

"Well, what's the matter? He's an uncommon good chap, Laing--one of the
best chaps I know--and he's got lots of coin. I don't expect she'd
sneeze at Laing."

It is, no doubt, taking a very serious responsibility to upset an
arrangement arrived at deliberately and carried almost to a conclusion.
A man should be very sure that he can make a woman happy--happier than
any other man could-before he asks her to face the turmoil and the
scandal of breaking off her marriage only a week before its
celebration. Sure as he may be of his own affection, he must be equally
sure of hers, equally sure that their mutual love is deep and
permanent. He must consider his claims to demand such a sacrifice. What
remorse will be his if, afterwards, he discovers that what he did was
not, in truth, for her real happiness! He must be on his guard against
mere selfishness or mere vanity masquerading in the garb of a genuine
passion.

As these thoughts occurred to Charlie Ellerton he felt that he was at a
crisis of his life. He also felt glad that he had still a quiet week at
Cannes in which to revolve these considerations in his mind. Above all,
he must do nothing hastily.

Dora came out, a book in her hand. Her soft white frock fluttered in
the breeze, and she pushed back a loose lock of dark hair that caressed
her check.

"A dashed nice girl, upon my honor," said Sir Roger Deane.

"Oh, very."

"I say, old chap, I suppose you're in no hurry. You'll put in a few
days in Paris? We might have a day out, mightn't we?"

"I don't know yet," said Charlie, and, when Deane left him, he sat on
in solitude.

Was it possible that in the space of a week--? No, it was impossible.
And yet, with a girl like that----.

"I did the right thing in waiting to go with her, anyhow," said
C