"Well, you can keep it--"

"You haven't looked at it yet!"

"Don't want to!"

"Here it is," said I, opening the case. "Do you like it?"

"No!"

"Won't you accept it?"

"No, I won't!"

"Why, very well!" said I, and shutting the case I threw it into the road.

"Ah, don't! How could you!" she cried and reined Diogenes to abrupt standstill. "Go and pick it up--this instant!"

"If you don't want it--I won't!" said I, folding my arms.

"I didn't say I didn't want it--"

"But you wouldn't accept it--"

"No more I will--yet--"

"Now of all the ridiculous, unreasonable creatures--"

"So please go an' pick it up, Peregrine."

"If I do, will you let me put it round your neck?"

"Wait till--till I feels a little kinder to you!"

"That will be a unique occasion and one to remember!" said I bitterly, and springing from the cart, I went and took up my despised gift, though with very ill grace. "And pray, madam," I enquired, thrusting the case into my pocket and frowning up at her where she leaned, chin on fist, viewing me with her sombre gaze, "when are you likely to feel any kinder?"

"How should I know--and you look s' strange and different in your new clo'es--"

"It is to be hoped so!" said I.

"And your curls all cut off!"

"I never thought you'd notice--"

"And you seem more c.o.c.ksure than ever--"

"c.o.c.ksure is an ugly word, Diana."

"So I think I liked you better as you were."

"Good!" said I, climbing back into the cart. "It remains for me to make you like me best--as I am."

"How?"

"By marrying you."

"But you don't--we ain't in love with each other or any such silliness," said she, flicking idly at the hedge with the whip.

"I'm not so sure, Diana. Indeed, I begin to think I do--love you in a way--or may do soon."

"Oh, do you?"

"I do!"

"Have you ever been in love?"

"Never."

"Then you don't know nothin' about it."

"Do you?" I questioned.

"More than you!" she nodded.

"Ah, do you mean that you have loved--some man--"

"Of course not, silly!"

"Good!" said I. "And you have promised faithfully never to kiss any other man but me--"

"I said the man I married--"

"Well, that _is_ me."

"Oh, is it?"

"Of course!"

CHAPTER x.x.x

OF A TRULY MEMORABLE OCCASION

The silence was broken only by the plodding hoofs of Diogenes, the creak of harness and rattle of wheels, while Diana grew lost in thought and I in contemplation of Diana; the stately grace of her slender, shapely form, the curve of her vivid lips, the droop of her long, down-swept lashes, her resolute chin and her indefinable air of native pride and power. All at once her sombre look gave place to a smile, her slender hand tightened upon the reins, and glancing up I saw that we had reached a place where four roads met, and here, seated beneath the finger-post was a solitary, shabbily dressed old man absorbed in a book; roused by the sound of our approach, he glanced up and I recognised the ancient person, Lord Wyvelstoke.