She resisted the temptation to lay her cheek against his shoulder. She thought, He makes it very difficult. He won’t help me, not-one atom.

“The book, Stephen? How is it?”

“I’ve done very little more,” he confessed. “I—I missed your presence in the room.” He sighed. “I’m a discontented dog, Elizabeth.”

She was silent, waiting.

“The roses are coming on well, aren’t they?” Stephen said.

The car slowed down and stopped before the porch.

“Very,” Elizabeth said dismally. “Oh, Hector, you dear thing, don’t lick my nose!”

She went up to her room and was a long time over her unpacking. When she came down for tea she had changed her frock to one of lilac silk which she knew became her better than any other she possessed. Stephen’s eyes lit up when he saw her, but all he said was, “Tea’s ready, Lisbeth.”

She sat down on the sofa; he sank on to his usual footstool and remarked that she was doing her hair a different way.

“Do you like it?” she asked.

“Very much. It suits you. How were your people?”

“Father had a bit of a. cold, but otherwise they were all right. I saw Mr. Hengist once or twice. He took me to see ‘The Butterfly.’”

“Oh, was it any good?”

“Y-es, I think it was a clever play. I never like the ultra-modern stuff, you know. Oh, Sarah’s engaged to be married!”

“No, really? Do we know the man?”

“No. I’ve only seen his photograph. Not fearfully prepossessing. Rather pudgy-faced.”

“Perhaps he has a good heart,” Stephen grinned. “By the way, I had a letter from Caryll yesterday. He asked me to remember him very particularly to you, and to say that he looked forward to seeing you again as soon as possible.”

Elizabeth’s face lit up.

“Oh, did he say that? How awfully nice of him!”

Stephen set his cup down.

“I scent an intrigue. Out with it!”

Pain came into her eyes.

“Don’t, Stephen! Not—not even in fun. I—I can’t bear it.”

He was on his knees beside her in an instant, an arm protectively about her waist.

“My darling, I never meant to hurt you! I’m awfully sorry, ’Lisbeth. Of course I didn’t think there was anything in it.”

She let her weight rest against his arm; even she inclined her body slightly towards him. He let her go, and went back to his seat. For a time she could not speak for very disappointment, but presently she said,

“You see, I met Mr. Cary one day when—when I was with Charles. He—he said one or two things to me that— made me feel—ashamed and—very small.”

“Oh, did he? D’you mind repeating just what he said?” Stephen demanded grimly.