ave to begin all
over again and train herself to be "Clare."

The eyes of the two women were keenly critical; their words were
cordial, if somewhat mysterious.

"_So_ pleased to meet you! Quite an honour to be the first to welcome
you. The Squire _will_ be delighted!"

"I shall be delighted to see him," Juliet declared smiling. She
disliked the attitude of these women as much as she was attracted by
that of the man by her side. Despite their assurances, she had a
conviction that they were _not_ pleased at her arrival; that it was a
disappointment to them to find her appearance beyond criticism. The big
man stood silent by her side; she divined also that he was nervous and
troubled, momentarily dreading a slip on her part. She was determined
to make no slip. Already she had ranked herself on his side, and felt
the stirring of the true actor's joy in making the best of his part.

The younger of the two women gave a difficult, unmirthful laugh. She
was a thin, elegant-looking creature, rather over thirty, whose good
looks were marred by an expression of discontent.

"Really, you know," she cried in affected tones, "we were beginning to
think that your name was Harris, and that Antony had invented you for
his own convenience. It seemed so strange that he had never spoken of
you before."

Juliet's little laugh of response was quite sweet and unruffled. "Oh,
I'm very real, I assure you. A most substantial person. I'm so glad he
didn't bore you with descriptions; they lead to so much disappointment."
She held out her hand with a charming assurance. "Good-bye! Perhaps
we may meet again."

The next moment they were passing through the office, out of view of the
curious eyes, and a low-toned "Bravo!" acclaimed the success of her
effort. Juliet laughed in involuntary self-congratulation, and
Maplestone laughed in sympathy. The two women, catching a sight of the
dog-cart as it wheeled down the lane, saw the two laughing faces turned
towards each other in mutual enjoyment, and the sight was not good in
their eyes.

"It's true, then; an absolute fact. And quite presentable, too. Well,
Honoria, I'm sorry!"

Meanwhile Juliet was putting her first question to her companion.

"Please--why am I Clare Lawson?"

His face fell. Amusement gave place to embarrassment. "Do you object?
I'm sorry to have sprung it upon you so suddenly, but--well, you had to
have some name, hadn't you? I suppose one is as good as