eek as the time is getting so short I
don't feel as if I shall ever be ready as it is. I've never been so
rushed before. I sometimes wonder if it wouldn't be almost better to put
it off a few weeks."

"Jump up!" commanded Eustace, with a curt sign to a porter to pick up his
_fiancee's_ humble impediments.

Dinah sprang up beside him and slipped a shy hand onto his knee. "You
look more like Apollo than ever," she whispered, awe-struck, "when you
frown like that. Is anything the matter?"

His brow cleared magically at her action. "I began to think I should have
to come down to Perrythorpe and fetch you," he said, grasping the little
nervous fingers. "I thought you meant to give me the slip--if you could."

"Oh no!" said Dinah, shocked at the suggestion. "I wanted to come;
only--only--I couldn't be spared sooner. It wasn't my fault," she urged
pleadingly. "Truly it wasn't!"

He smiled upon her. "All right,--Daphne. I'll forgive you this time," he
said. "But now I've got you, my nymph of the woods, I am not going to
part with you again in a hurry. And if you talk of putting off the
wedding again, I'll simply run away with you. So now you know what to
expect."

Dinah uttered her giddy little laugh. The excitement of this visit--the
first she had ever paid to anyone--had turned her head. "Do you know
Rose is actually going to be my chief bridesmaid?" she said. "Isn't
that--magnanimous of her? She is pretending to be pleased, but I know she
is frightfully jealous underneath. The other bridesmaid is the Vicar's
daughter. She is quite old, nearly thirty but I couldn't think of anyone
else, except the infant schoolmistress, and they wouldn't let me have
her. I shall feel rather small, shan't I? Even Rose is twenty-five. I
wonder if I shall feel grown up when I'm married. Do you think I shall?"

"Not till you cease to be--Daphne," said Sir Eustace enigmatically.

He started the car with the words, and they shot forward with a
suddenness that made Dinah hold her breath.

But in a few moments she was chattering again, for she was never quiet
for long. How was Scott? Was he at home? And Isabel--he hadn't told her.
She did hope dear Isabel was keeping better. Was she? Was she?

She pressed the question as he did not seem inclined to answer it, and
saw again the frown that had darkened his handsome face upon arrival.

"Do tell me!" she begged. "Isn't she so well?"

And at last with the curtness of speech which always denot