d her blush before it could overwhelm her, and very
sedately she made answer. "I am not feeling very pleased with you;
that's why."

"Great heaven!" said Noel. "What on earth have I done?"

"You might have the decency to let me finish my breakfast in peace,"
protested Nick. "My appetite can't thrive in a stormy atmosphere."

Noel turned to him, smiling persuasively. "Can't you take your breakfast
into the garden, old chap? I want to thresh this matter out at once. I'm
sure you have your niece's permission to retire."

But at that, Olga rose from the table. "Suppose we go into the garden,
Mr. Wyndham," she said.

Noel sprang up with a jingle of spurs. "By all means!"

"Get a hat, Olga!" said Nick.

She threw him a fleeting smile and departed.

Noel propped himself against the window-frame and waited. He did not
appear greatly disconcerted by the turn of events. Without an effort he
conversed with Nick on the chances of the forthcoming polo-match.

When Olga came along the verandah a minute later he stepped out and
joined her with a smile.

They passed side by side down the winding path that led to the cypress
walk. Olga's face was pale. She looked very full of resolution.

"I am quite sure you know what I am going to say," she said very quietly
at length.

"You haven't wished me a happy Christmas yet," remarked Noel, still
smiling his audacious smile. "Can it be that?"

Olga's face remained grave. "No," she said. "I don't feel friendly
enough for that."

"I say, what have I done?" said Noel.

She stopped and faced him, and he suddenly saw that she was very
nervous. She held out to him a little packet wrapped in tissue-paper.

"Mr. Wyndham," she said, speaking rapidly to cover her agitation, "you
couldn't seriously expect me to accept this, whatever your motive for
sending it. Please take it back, and let me forget all about it as
quickly as possible!"

Noel's hand clasped hers instantly, packet and all. "My dear girl," he
said softly, "don't be upset,--but you're making a mistake."

She looked up, meeting the Irish eyes with a tremor of reluctance. In
spite of herself, she spoke almost with entreaty. For there was
something about him that stirred her very deeply. "Please don't make
things hard!" she said. "You know you have no right. I never gave you
the smallest reason to imagine I would take such a gift from you."

Noel was still smiling; but there was nothing impudent about his smile.
Rather he