trap
beside her. "Di, I've got to hear that voice before long. What does
Signor Baroni say about it?"

"Oh, I think he's quite pleased," she answered, whipping up the fat
pony, who responded reluctantly. "But he's a fearful martinet. He
nearly frightens me to death when he gets into one of his royal Italian
rages--though he's always particularly sweet afterwards! Pobs, I
wonder who my man in the train was?" she added inconsequently.

The Rector looked at her narrowly. He had wondered more than a little
why the shock of the railway accident had apparently affected her so
slightly, and although he had joked with Joan about some possible
"gallant rescuer" who might have diverted her thoughts he had really
attributed it partly to the youthful resiliency of Diana's nature, and
partly to the fact that when one has narrowly escaped a serious injury,
or death itself, the sense of relief is so intense as frequently to
overpower for the moment every other feeling.

But now he was thrown back on the gallant rescuer theory; obviously the
man, whoever he was, had impressed himself rather forcibly on Diana's
mind, and the Rector acknowledged that this was almost inevitable from
the circumstances in which they had been thrown together.

"You know," continued the girl, "I'm certain I've seen him before--the
day I first went to Baroni to have my voice tested. It was in
Grellingham Place, and all my songs blew away up the street, and I'm
positive M.E. was the man who rescued them for me."

"Rescuing seems to be his hobby," commented the Rector dryly. "Did you
remind him that you had met before?"

"Yes, and he wouldn't recollect it."

"_Wouldn't_?"

"No, wouldn't. I have a distinct feeling that he did remember all
about it, and did recognise me again, but he wouldn't acknowledge it
and politely assured me I must be mistaken."

The Rector smiled.

"Perhaps he has a prejudice against making the promiscuous acquaintance
of beautiful young women in trains."

Diana sniffed.

"Oh, well, if he didn't think I was good enough to know--" She
paused. "He _had_ rather a superior way with him, a sort of
independent, lordly manner, as though no one had a right to question
anything he chose to do. And he was in a first-class reserved
compartment too."

"Oh, was he? And did you force your way into his reserved compartment,
may I ask?"

Diana giggled.

"I didn't force my way into it; I was pitchforked in by a porter. The