' Her grandmother eyed her thoughtfully.

"Well, my dear, it is just that, is it not?

And one which could benefit you both," she added matter-of-factly.

"Companionship in marriage is important, you know, so is mutual respect and liking. It is possible to love someone without any of these things, even to dislike them.

' And that's how I feel about Nick, thought Alethea unhappily, for I don't like him, only I can't forget him. . Her grandmother went on, apparently talking to herself: "Love, if there is nothing else with it, can be utterly destroyed and leave nothing in its place, but liking and respect can grow into deep affection and even love.

' "You want me to marry Mr van Diederijk," said Alethea baldly. "T have already told you, darling, you must decide for yourself. ' Mrs Thomas paused.

"Don't say anything now, child whatever you do decide is your concern and his.

How old is he, by the way?

' "T don't know.

Granny, but if his children are eleven years old be must be in his late thirties-he looks older than that.

' "And you are twenty-seven," her grandmother reminded her.

Alethea nodded.

"Getting long in the tooth.

' "But don't let that be a reason for marrying, my dear.

' "Oh, I can promise you that--if I did decide to marry him, and that's

very unlikely, it would be because of Nick.

Nothing really matters any more.

Granny--I shall forget him in time, shan't I?

But will it be quite fair?

' Her grandmother forbore from pointing out that if she had no intention of marrying Mr van Diederijk the question wouldn't arise.

"Quite fair," she observed firmly, 'because he knows everything there is to know about it.

' Alethea said: "Well, yes.

' in a vague fashion and presently wandered off to lay the table for lunch.

The matter wasn't discussed again that day and Alethea didn't allow herself to think about it either; she knew that this was a silly thing to do because on the next day she would have to give Mr van Diederijk his answer, but since, as she told herself far more frequently than she realised, she was going to refuse him in any case, there was no point in teasing her already muddled head.

All the same, she slept badly and when she wakened after a bad night, her determination was all the stronger.

It was a pity that she couldn't justify her resolution for doing so, especially as the alternative was hardly a pleasant prospect; all the same, she made up her lovely face with more than usual care and arranged her hair with an eye as to its most becoming appearance.

True, Mr van Diederijk wasn't coming until the afternoon, and that would probably mean teatime, but there was no harm in being prepared.

Besides, she would have ample time in which to refurbish her person before then.

She was wrong.

She was wiping the dishes Mrs Bustle was washing after their lunch when his vast form blocked the kitchen doorway.

His, "Hullo, Mrs Thomas told me to come in this way," was genial without showing any undue eagerness and Alethea was instantly annoyed; there he was, elegant in his casual country clothes, worn with such an air, while she was only too aware that her nose was shining and her carefully arranged hair had come loose in curly tendrils.

Why couldn't Granny have told him to ring the front door bell or even got out of her garden chair and brought him in the right way and not through the kitchen door; it would have given her time to run a comb through her hair.

Her "Hullo," was almost drowned by Mrs Bustle's anxious voice wanting to

know if he had had his lunch, and at his quick,

"Yes, thanks," Alethea guessed that he hadn't; after all, it was only a little after half past one.

"Have you come straight from Theobald's?

' she asked.

He nodded.

"A busy morning I'm afraid we've filled your ward up for you once more.

' She polished a spoon with care.

"So you had no time for lunch, did you?

' His eyes met hers across the pleasant, rather cluttered kitchen.

He said simply: "T wanted to see you, Alethea.

' She blinked with surprise and pinkened a little.

"Would sandwiches and coffee do?

or beer?

' He smiled then, a friendly grin which she found herself answering.

"Beer, please.

And I would love a sandwich.

' Mrs Bustle snorted her concern.

"You get the beer.

Miss Alethea, and go into the garden.

I'll be out in a brace of shakes with something tasty.

' Alethea got the beer and took her companion into the garden where Mrs Thomas was quite obviously waiting for them.

"Come here and sit down," she called.

"Such a lovely day, and you must forgive an old woman for being lazy.

' She then proceeded to engage him in a conversation which while not

exactly excluding Alethea, certainly didn't give her any chance to say much for herself, and when presently Mrs Bustle came with a tray loaded with sandwiches, one or two of her own pork pies, and a slice of rhubarb pie, well sugared, and arranged this repast on a small table at Mr van Diederijk's elbow, conversation was kept to a polite minimum while he demolished these dainties.

He sat back at length.

"You are a magnificent cook, Mrs Bustle," he observed to that lady, who

had pounced out upon them several times to make sure that he was eating his fill.

He turned to Mrs Thomas.

"And you, Mrs Thomas, are a delightful hostess.

Thank you both.

' He didn't say anything to Alethea, which considering she had done

very little to entertain him was natural enough--indeed, except for the odd remark during the next half an hour, he had very little to say to her.

But presently Mrs Thomas observed: "T shall now take a nap.

We will have tea at four o'clock, Alethea--out here, I think.

Take Sarre for a walk.

' If Alethea had been an ill-natured girl, she would have muttered her

annoyance.

As it was she said politely, "Very well.

Granny, although perhaps Mr van Diederijk would like a rest too.

' She stopped there because she could see that he was laughing silently

at her, but all he said was: "Sarre, if you could remember.

I don't feel quite so old then.

' They had taken a few steps when Mrs Thomas asked: "If I am not being

impertinent, Sarre, how old are you?

' "Thirty-nine, Mrs Thomas, and sometimes I feel twice that age.

' "And sometimes you look the half of it.

' She closed her eyes with a loud sigh.

"Now run along--when you reach my age it doesn't matter whether you