s something in his
manner that she resented, without knowing why. "Well?" she said.

"How do you find yourself this morning?" asked Max.

"I'm perfectly well, thank you," said Olga briefly.

"Ready to start jam-making?" he suggested.

Olga went to the coffee-urn. "I really don't know," she said. "I've had
other things to think about."

He smiled a little, the superior, one-sided smile she most detested.
"You mustn't let the fruit go bad," he observed, "after all my trouble."

Olga peered into the coffee-urn, without replying. Max in an
exasperating mood could be very exasperating indeed. He pulled out the
chair next to her, and sat down.

"And how is the beautiful Miss Campion?" he said.

Olga looked at him. She could not help it.

"Well?" said Max.

She coloured hotly. "I wonder you haven't been to see for yourself," she
said.

"Perhaps I have," said Max.

She turned from his open scrutiny, and began to pour out the coffee
with a hand not wholly steady.

"I presume--if you had--you wouldn't ask me," she said.

He lodged his chin on his hand, the better to study her. "In making that
presumption, fair lady," he said, "you are not wholly justified. Has it
never occurred to you that I might entertain a certain veneration for
your opinion on a limited number of subjects?"

Olga set down the coffee-urn and squarely turned upon him. "Have you
seen her this morning?" she asked him point-blank.

"Yes, I have seen her," he said.

"Then you know as much as I do," said Olga.

"Not quite," he returned. "I soon shall however. Did she seem pleased to
see you this morning?"

"Of course," said Olga.

"And why 'of course'? Do you never disagree?" He asked the question
banteringly, yet his eyes were still upon her, unflaggingly intent.

"We never quarrel," said Olga.

"I see. You have differences of opinion; is that it? And what happens
then? Is there never a tug of war?" Max's smile became speculative.

"No, never," said Olga.

"Never?" He raised his red brows incredulously. "Do you mean to say you
give in to her at every turn? She can be fairly exacting, I should
imagine."

"I would give her anything she really wanted if it lay in my power,"
said Olga very steadily.

"Would you?" said Max. He suddenly ceased to smile. "Even if it chanced
to be something you wanted rather badly yourself?"

She nodded. "Wouldn't you do as much for someone you loved?"

"That depends," said Max cautiously.

"Oh, of co