I suppose," Johnny thought as he drove on.

Hugh watched him down the road; he had seen Everard's glance at him, and
had summed him up. The man was just what he would have imagined, a man
of his own stamp, no Adonis--just an ordinary, healthy, clean-living
Englishman.

"I rather like the look of him," thought Hugh. "He seems all right." And
then he smiled at his thoughts a trifle bitterly. "By every right on
earth I ought to hate him."

Johnny drove his small car to the doors of the Hall.

"Joan," he said, "come out. Come out for a spin--the car's running
finely to-day. Come out, and we'll go and have lunch at Langbourne or
somewhere. What do you say?" His face was eager. "You know," he added,
"you have never been out with me in my car yet."

"If you would like me to."

"Go and get ready then, and I'll tell Helen," he said. "We shan't be
back to lunch."

Hugh had been on his way to the village when he saw Everard in his
little car. He went to the village because, if he went in the opposite
direction, it would take him to the Hall gates, and he did not wish to
go there. He did not wish her to see him, to form the idea that he was
here loitering about for the purpose of seeing her.

Sooner or later he knew she must be made aware of his presence, then he
hoped for an opportunity to explain, but he would not seek it yet. So he
made his way to the village, stopped to give pennies to small
white-haired children, patted the shaggy dusty heads of vagrant dogs,
and finally came to anchor on the seat beside the railed-in stocks.

And there on that same seat sat a small, dark-eyed maiden, whose rusty
bicycle reclined against the railings. She had been here yesterday for
fifteen minutes or so. He and she had occupied the seat without the
exchange of a word, according to English custom.

Hugh looked at her. Because he regarded one woman as the embodiment of
all that was perfect and graceful and beautiful, it did not blind him to
beauty in others. He saw in this girl what those blinder than he had not
yet recognised--the dawning of a wonderful, a radiant and glowing
beauty. And because he had a very sincere and honest appreciation of the
beautiful, she interested him, and he smiled. He lifted his hat.

The girl stared at him; she started a little as he raised his hat. She
gave the slightest inclination of her head. It was not encouraging.

Hugh sat down. He was thinking of the man he had seen a while ago--a
clean, hones