hat I'd rather be
alone with myself than with anyone else except you, for any length of
time, because I'm such good chums with myself, and enjoy thinking my own
thoughts. But I _do_ like being with Sir Lionel. I feel excited and
eager at the thought of being with him. And his fingers on mine--and my
hand on his arm--and the touch of his sleeve--and a faint little, almost
imperceptible scent of Egyptian cigarettes mixing with the woodsy smell
of the night--oh, I don't know how to describe it to myself. So now you
know as much as I do. But wouldn't it be dreadful if I should go and
fall in love with Sir Lionel Pendragon of all other men in the world? In
a few more weeks I shall be slipping out of his life forever; and not
only that, but I shall be leaving a very evil memory behind. He will
despise me. I shall have proved myself exactly the sort of person he
abominates.

I didn't think all that, however, as he put my hand on his arm. I just
felt the thrill of it; but instead of worrying, I was happy, and didn't
care how tired and hungry I was, or whether we ever got anywhere or not.
As for him, he was too polite to let me know he was bored, and all the
time we were looking for the hotel the night was so beautiful, so
wonderful, that we couldn't help talking of exquisite things, telling
each other thoughts neither of us would have spoken aloud in daylight.
It was quite dark now, except for a kind of rosy quivering of light
along the horizon, and the stars that had come out like a bright army of
fairies, with millions of scintillating spears.

I knew then, dearest, that he was no dragon, no matter what
circumstantial evidence may have been handed down to Ellaline as a
legacy from her dead mother. That is something to have divined by the
magic of the forest, isn't it, after I've been puzzling so long? There
is now not the least doubt in my mind. So if I should be silly and
sentimental enough to fancy myself in love, it can't do any harm, except
to make me a little sorry and sad after I've come home to you. It won't
be anything to be _ashamed_ of, to have cared about a man like Sir
Lionel; because I assure you I shan't behave foolishly, no matter how I
may eventually feel. You can trust your Audrie for that.

It was too dark to tell the time by a watch, but we remarked to each
other that they must have finished dinner long ago; and Sir Lionel hoped
this wouldn't spoil the memory of my birthday for me.

"Oh, no," said I, be