paint-box, brushes and sketch in hand. "To see _me_?"

"Yes! why not?"

Flamby confronted him, her natural self-confidence restored, and studied
him with grave grey eyes. "What did you want to see me about?" she
asked; and in the tone of the question there was a restrained anxiety
which Paul could not understand. Also there was a faint and fascinating
suggestion of brogue in her accent.

"About yourself, of course," he replied, and wondered more and more
because of the knowledge--borne to him by that acute, almost feminine,
intuition which was his--that the girl was fencing with him, and because
of her strangeness and her beauty as she stood before him, hair flaming
in the sunlight, and her eyes watching him observantly.

Now, her expression changed, and her pupils growing momentarily larger,
he knew that her thoughts were in the past--and that they had brought
relief from some secret anxiety which had been with her.

"Of course!" she said, and laughed with a sudden joyousness that was in
harmony with the morning; "you came yesterday with Captain Courtier. I
understand, now."

Swiftly as her laughter had come, it vanished, and her eyes grew dim
with tears. Such tempestuous emotions must have nonplussed the average
man, but to Paul Mario her moods read clearly as a printed page, so that
almost as the image arose in Flamby's mind, it arose also in his; and he
saw before him one who wore the uniform of a sergeant of Irish Guards.
Hotly pursuing the tears came brave smiles. Flamby shook her curls back
from her brow, gave Paul a glance which was half apologetic and wholly
appealing, then laughed again and swept him a mocking curtsey.

"I am your honour's servant," she said; "what would you with me?"

The elfin light danced in her eyes again, and in this country damsel
who used the language of an obsolete vassalage he saw one who mocked at
his manorial rights and cared naught for king or commoner. Beyond doubt,
Sergeant Duveen had been a strange man, and strangely had he trained his
daughter.

"May I see your drawing?"

Flamby hesitated. "Are you really interested?" she said wistfully, "or
are you just trying to be kind?"

Paul was tempted to laugh outright, but his delicate sensibilities told
him that laughter would give offence. "I am really interested," he
assured her earnestly, "Captain Courtier is of opinion that you have a
remarkable gift for portraying wild life."

He selected his words deliberately with