f to have sympathy to spare for
anyone else. She threw off her wrapper and slipped into the cool muslin
dress which was at once so simple, and so essentially French and up-to-
date, and then, throwing open the door of a cupboard, stared at a long
row of hats ranged on a top shelf, and deliberately selected the one
which she considered the least becoming.

"I will _not_ be decked up for the sacrifice!" she muttered
rebelliously, then bent forward, so that her face approached close to
the flushed, frowning reflection in the glass. "You are going to be
proposed to, my dear!" she said scornfully. "You are going to be good
and sensible, and say `Yes, please!' When you see yourself next, you
will be Engaged! It won't be dear little Claire Gifford any more, it
will be the horrible future Mrs Robert Judge!"

She stuck hat-pins through the straw hat with savage energy; for once in
her life noticed with distinct satisfaction that it was secured at an
unbecoming angle, then, hearing through the _jalousies_ the sound of
approaching wheels, marched resolutely forth to meet her fate...

In the _fiacre_ Mrs Gifford and Miss Benson took the seats of honour,
leaving Claire and Mr Judge to sit side by side, and the one furtive
glance which she cast in his direction showed him looking confident and
unperturbed. Just like a French _pretendu_, already assured by Maman
that Mademoiselle was meekly waiting to assent to his suit!

"He might at least pay me the compliment of _pretending_! It is
dreadfully dull to be taken for granted," reflected Claire in disgust.

The next hour was a horrible experience. Everything happened exactly as
Claire had known it would, from the moment the quartette set forth.
Arrived at the forest, they took possession of one of the little tables
beneath the trees, and made fitful conversation the while they consumed
delicious cakes and execrable tea. Then the meal being finished, Mrs
Gifford and her companion announced a wish to sit still and rest, while
Mr Judge nervously invited Miss Claire to accompany him in a walk. She
assented, of course; what was the use of putting it off? and as soon as
they were well started, he spied another seat, and insisted upon sitting
down once more.

"Now he'll begin," thought Claire desperately. "He'll talk about India,
and being lonely, and say how happy he has felt since he's been here,"
and even as the thought passed through her mind, Mr Judge began to
speak.

"