surveyed him in astonishment. "Nick is the soul of
wisdom," she said.

"Is he though?" Noel looked amused. "I must get him to give me a few
hints," he observed. "I wonder if he has left any breakfast. You know, I
haven't had any yet."

"Oh, let us go back!" said Olga turning. "And please do forget all about
this tiresome misunderstanding! Promise you will!"

He waved his hand. "The subject is closed and will never be reopened by
me without your permission. At the same time, let me confess that I have
presumed so far as to procure a small Christmas offering for your
acceptance. You won't refuse it, will you?"

Olga looked up dubiously; but the handsome young face that looked back
would only laugh.

"What is it?" she said at length.

Gaily he made answer. "It's a parrot--quite a youngster. I picked him up
in the bazaar. He isn't properly fledged yet, but he promises well. I'm
keeping him for a bit to educate him. But if you won't have him, I shall
wring his neck."

"I'm sure you wouldn't!" she exclaimed.

He continued to laugh, though her face expressed horror. "And you will
be morally responsible; think of that! It's tantamount to being guilty
of murder. Horrible idea, isn't it? You--who never in your life killed
so much as a moth! Hullo! What's up?"

For Olga had made a sudden, very curious gesture, almost as if she
winced from a threatened blow. Her face was white and strained; she
pressed her hands very tightly over her heart.

"What's up?" he repeated, in surprise.

She gazed at him with the eyes of one coming out of a stupor. "I don't
know," she said. "I had a queer feeling as if--as if--" She paused,
seeming to wrestle with some inner, elusive vision. "There! It's gone!"
she said, after a moment, disappointment and relief curiously mingled in
her voice. "What were we talking about? Oh, yes, the parrot! It's very
kind of you. I shall like to have it."

"I've christened it Noel," he remarked, with some complacence. "It's a
Christmas present, you see."

"I see," said Olga, beginning to smile. "And you are teaching it to
talk?"

"I'm only going to teach it one sentence," he said.

"Oh, what is it?"

He gave her a sidelong glance. "I don't think I'd better tell you."

"But why not?"

"It'll make you cross."

Olga laughed. Somehow she could not help feeling indulgent. Moreover,
the interview was nearly at an end, for they were nearing the bungalow,
and Nick's white figure was visible on the ver