"I hardly know," with a tired smile. "Of course I want you, but if -"

"Never mind the 'if'," cheerfully. "If I promise to run down and see you, will you go away at once, and try to get well again quickly?"

"It would make a lot of difference."

"Then that settles it. Can you start to-morrow?"

"I think I could."

Her pulses were leaping fitfull now - leaping and bounding with a swift delight. Perhaps he felt it, for he withdrew his hand, and gave himself a little shake, as if warding off something dangerous.

"Where will you go?" in a matter-of-fact voice.

"I hardly know, but I like the sea. Any little place that is warm in the spring. I might as well motor down, so it doesn't matter about trains, and the motor can come back for you."

"Shall I bring any one else?" his eyes searched her face.

"Just as you like." She leant forward and casually stirred the fire.

"Anyhow, there is sure to be plenty of room at this time of year."

"Plenty of room, but not plenty of available companion chaperones,"

with a little laugh.

"Then we should have to make Sydney serve," naming her chauffeur. She got up form her seat.

"I suppose I must think about dinner," glancing at the clock. "Are you joining me this evening?"

"I can't; I have to go to Morrison's."

"How gay you are!"

"It is diplomatic. Morrison could get me a brief to-morrow if he liked."

"There is a very pretty daughter, just out; isn't there?"

"Yes."

"And is she so strikingly lovely?"

"I suppose she is; but she is so full of airs and graces she irritates one almost past endurance."

"I'm afraid you are a severe critic. The way is made too smooth for you."

She had moved near to him again, and stood beside him with one hand resting lightly on the mantelpiece, and one foot on the fender. He was standing as usual with his back to the fire. He looked down into her upturned face, fascinating now from a touch of roguishness.

"The splendid knight is hard to please; mere beauty is too commonplace."

"Isn't it sure to be?" a little smile played round his lips as he made his gallant retort. "How can mere beauty ever appeal to me, who have been accustomed to all you have besides?"

"Ah, flatterer!..." she said softly, and smiled into the fire.

There was a tense moment in which he longed to bend down and kiss her as he had done when the room was full of violets, but instead he pulled himself up sharply and moved away.

"Well, I must be off. Perhaps to-night I shall have the luck to be able to look at her from a distance, and not strike the jarring note.

I'll try to come in to-morrow to see what you have decided, and then I'll run down on Friday afternoon for a long week-end, to see that you are taking decent care of yourself." As an afterthought he added: "I suppose Hal couldn't get off?"

"I'll ask her if you like. She would love it, if she could."

"And keep us amused too. I should get my head bitten off, but you could put it on again for me. Good-bye. Anyhow, it is a promise that you will go"; and with rather a hurried farewell, he was gone.

Lorraine remained some moments gazing into the fire, and there was a softness in her eyes. She knew perfectly well that he had hurried at the last moment because when they stood together on the hearth he had wanted to kiss her.

And she could not help comparing his strength in refraining with what would have been the action of most of the men she had known, who would have professed more, and meant less. She leaned her head down on her hand, and wondered a little pitifully:

"Why had the best she had ever known come to her too late?"

And then followed the dangerous thought: "Is it indeed too late?"

CHAPTER x.x.xV

Lorraine was not able to see Hal, but she talked to her on the telephone, and told her she was going into the country at once, and Alymer was coming down for the week-end. "We wondered if you could get off too. Do try," she said.

Hal answered at once that she could not manage it this week, but possibly the next, if Lorraine were still away.

"I've only arranged for a week's holiday," Lorraine replied. "What a nuisance you should be unable to come this week."

As a matter of fact, Hal was only going out for the day with her cousin on Sunday, but an urgent little note from Sir Edwin had begged her to keep Sat.u.r.day free for him; and because the suspense was becoming unendurable, she granted his request, determined to know the truth.

So it happened that Lorraine motored down alone to a quaint little fishing-village on the south coast, where there was a charming, old-fashioned, creeper-decked hotel, too far from the railway for the ordinary week-end tourists, and patronised mainly by motorists in the summer.

And on Friday the motor went back to town to fetch Alymer, bringing him down about four o'clock, unaccompanied.

"So Sydney will have to be chaperone after all," Lorraine said lightly.

"Now, what should you like to do to-morrow?"

"Is there any chance of fishing?"

He asked the question with some diffidence, fearing that it might only bore her.

Lorraine clapped her hands.

"Exactly what I thought. We're going to have the jolliest little fishing-smack imaginable for the whole day; and Sunday too, if you like; and take our lunch with us, and fish until we are tired."