He sat down on the edge of a table already laden with books, most of which overbalanced and fell crash on the floor.

"So Christopher wants you to marry him--the old fox?" he said, apparently oblivious of the wreck of literature he had caused. "But you won't do that, will you? And yet I have no business to say that. He is a dam good friend, Christopher."

"I am sure you ought not to swear so often, Lord Robert; it shocks me, brought up as I have been," I said, with the air of a little angel.

"Do I swear?" he asked, surprised. "Oh no, I don't think so--at least, there is no 'n' to the end of the 'dams,' so they are only an innocent ornament to conversation. But I won't do it, if you don't wish me to."

After that he helped me with the books, and was so merry and kind I soon felt cheered up, and by lunchtime all were finished and in the boxes ready to be tied up and taken away. Veronique, too, had made great progress in the adjoining room, and was standing stiff and _maussade_ by my dressing-table when I came in. She spoke respectfully in French, and asked me if I had made my plans yet, for, as she explained to me, her own position seemed precarious, and yet, having been with me for five years, she did not feel she could leave me at a juncture like this. At the same time she hoped mademoiselle would make some suitable decision, as she feared, respectfully, it was "une si drole de position pour une demoiselle du monde," alone with "ces messieurs."

I could not be angry; it was quite true what she said.

"I shall go up this evening to Claridge's, Veronique," I a.s.sured her--"by about the 5.15 train. We will wire to them after luncheon."

She seemed comforted, but she added--in the abstract--that a rich marriage was what was obviously mademoiselle's fate, and she felt sure great happiness and many jewels would await mademoiselle if mademoiselle could be persuaded to make up her mind. Nothing is sacred from one's maid. She knew all about Mr. Carruthers, of course. Poor old Veronique!

I have a big, warm corner for her in my heart. Sometimes she treats me with the frigid respect one would pay to a queen, and at others I am almost her _enfant_, so tender and motherly she is to me. And she puts up with all my tempers and moods, and pets me like a baby just when I am the worst of all.

Lord Robert had left me reluctantly when the luncheon gong sounded.

"Haven't we been happy?" he said, taking it for granted I felt the same as he did. This is a very engaging quality of his, and makes one feel sympathetic, especially when he looks into one's eyes with his sleepy blue ones. He has lashes as long and curly as a gypsy's baby.

Mr. Carruthers was alone in the dining-room when I got in; he was looking out of the window, and turned round sharply as I came up the room. I am sure he would like to have been killing flies on the panes if he had been a boy. His eyes were steel.

"Where have you been all the time?" he asked, when he had shaken hands and said good-morning.

"Up in my room, packing," I said, simply. "Lord Robert was so kind he helped me. We have got everything done; and may I order the carriage for the 5.15 train, please?"

"Certainly not. Confound Lord Robert!" Mr. Carruthers said. "What business is it of his? You are not to go. I won't let you. Dear, silly little child!--" his voice was quite moved. "You can't possibly go out into the world all alone. Evangeline, why won't you marry me? I--do you know, I believe--I shall love you----"

"I should have to be _perfectly sure_ that the person I married loved me, Mr. Carruthers," I said, demurely, "before I consented to finish up my life like that."

He had no time to answer, for Mr. Barton and Lord Robert came into the room.

There seemed a gloom over luncheon. There were pauses, and Lord Robert had a more pathetic expression than ever. His hands are a nice shape--but so are Mr. Carruthers's; they both look very much like gentlemen.

Before we had finished, a note was brought in to me. It was from Lady Katherine Montgomerie. She was too sorry, she said, to hear of my lonely position, and she was writing to ask if I would not come over and spend a fortnight with them at Tryland Court.

It was not well worded, and I had never cared much for Lady Katherine, but it was fairly kind, and fitted in perfectly with my plans.

She had probably heard of Mr. Carruthers's arrival, and was scandalized at my being alone in the house with him.

Both men had their eyes fixed on my face when I looked up, as I finished reading the note.

"Lady Katherine Montgomerie writes to ask me to Tryland," I said. "So if you will excuse me I will answer it, and say I will come this afternoon," and I got up.

Mr. Carruthers rose, too, and followed me into the library. He deliberately shut the door and came over to the writing-table where I sat down.

"Well, if I let you go, will you tell her then that you are engaged to me, and I am going to marry you as soon as possible?"

"No, indeed I won't," I said, decidedly. "I am not going to marry you, or any one, Mr. Carruthers. What do you think of me? Fancy my consenting to come back here forever, and live with you, when I don't know you a bit! And having to put up with your--perhaps--kissing me, and--and--things of that sort. It is perfectly dreadful to think of!"

He laughed as if in spite of himself. "But supposing I promised not to kiss you?"

"Even so," I said, and I couldn't help biting the end of my pen. "It could happen that I might get a feeling I wanted to kiss some one else--and there it is! Once you're married, everything nice is wrong!"

"Evangeline! I won't let you go--out of my life--you strange little witch! You have upset me, disturbed me--I can settle to nothing. I seem to want you so very much."

"Pouf!" I said, and I pouted at him.

"You have everything in your life to fill it--position, riches, friends.

You don't want a green-eyed adventuress."

I bent down and wrote steadily to Lady Katherine. I would be there about six o'clock, I said, and thanked her in my best style.

"If I let you go, it is only for the time," Mr. Carruthers said as I signed my name. "I _intend_ you to marry me--do you hear?"

"Again I say, 'Qui vivre verra!'" I laughed and rose with the note in my hand.

Lord Robert looked almost ready to cry when I told him I was off in the afternoon.

"I shall see you again," he said. "Lady Katherine is a relation of my aunt's husband, Lord Merrenden. I don't know her myself, though."

I do not believe him. How can he see me again? Young men do talk a lot of nonsense!

"I shall come over on Wednesday to see how you are getting on," Mr.

Carruthers said. "Please do be in."

I promised I would, and then I came up-stairs.

And so it has come to an end, my life at Branches. I am going to start a new phase of existence, my first beginning as an adventuress!

How completely all one's ideas can change in a few days! This day three weeks ago Mrs. Carruthers was alive. This day two weeks ago I found myself no longer a prospective heiress, and only three days ago I was contemplating calmly the possibility of marrying Mr. Carruthers; and now, for heaven, I would not marry any one! And so, for fresh woods and pastures new! Oh, I want to see the world, and lots of different human beings; I want to know what it is makes the clock go round--that great big clock of life. I want to dance and to sing and to laugh, and to _live_--and--and--yes, perhaps some day to kiss some one I love!

TRYLAND COURT HEADINGTON,

Wednesday, _November 9th._

Goodness gracious! I have been here four whole days, and I continually ask myself how I shall be able to stand it for the rest of the fortnight.

Before I left Branches, I began to have a sinking at the heart. There were horribly touching farewells with housekeepers and people I have known since a child, and one hates to have that choky feeling, especially as just at the end of it, while tears were still in my eyes, Mr. Carruthers came out into the hall and saw them; so did Lord Robert!

I blinked and blinked, but one would trickle down my nose. It was a horribly awkward moment.

Mr. Carruthers made profuse inquiries as to my comforts for the drive, in a tone colder than ever, and insisted upon my drinking some cherry brandy.

Such fussing is quite unlike his usual manner, so I suppose he, too, felt it was a tiresome _quart d'heure_. Lord Robert did not hide his concern; he came up to me and took my hand while Christopher was speaking to the footman who was going with me.