nd balanced cane, was signaling his farewells.

"Do let us go up to the house," said Clara. "And Mrs. Purdie, won't you
drive up with me? Flora wants to walk."

Flora stood up. She had a confused impression that she had expressed no
such desire, and that there was room for three in the landau; but the
mental shove that Clara had administered gave her an impetus that
carried her out of the carriage before she realized what she was about.
Some one had offered a hand to help her, and when she was on the ground
she saw it was Kerr, who had come back and was standing beside her. He
was smiling quizzically.

"I feel rather like walking, myself," he said. "Do you want a
companion?"

She turned to him with gratitude. "I should be glad of one," she said
quickly. She was touched. She had not thought he could be so gentle.

Harry was already moving off up the board walk with the major. The
carriage was turning. Kerr looked at the backs of the two women being
driven away, and then at Flora. "Very good," he said, raising her
parasol; "you are the deposed heir, and I am your faithful servant."

"But indeed I do want to walk," she protested, a little shy at the way
he read her case.

"But you didn't think of it until she gave you the suggestion, eh?" he
quizzed.

"She probably had something to say to Mrs. Purdie that--"

"My dear child," he caught her up earnestly, "don't think I'm
criticizing your friend's motive. I am only saying I saw something done
that was not pretty, though really, if you will forgive me--it was very
funny."

Flora smiled ruefully. "It must have been--absurd. I am afraid I often
am. But what else could I have done?"

He seemed to ponder a moment. "I fancy _you_ couldn't have done anything
different. That's why I came back for you," he volunteered gaily.

The casual words seemed in her ears fraught with deeper meaning. Her
cheeks were hot behind her thin veil. They were strolling slowly up the
board walk, and for a moment she could not look at him. She could only
listen to the flutter of the fringes of the parasol carried above her
head. She felt herself small and stupid. She could not understand what
he could see in her to come back to. Then she gave a side glance at him.
She saw an unsmiling profile. The lines in his face were indeed
extraordinary, but none was hard. She liked that wonderful mobility that
had survived the batterings of experience.

As if he were conscious of her eyes, he looked