very impulsive. It's the sort of thing I might
have done myself when I was a girl. At least, of course, I shouldn't,
because the Rector.... Yes ... charming ... charming ... yes ... I
really think you might be engaged next month. It's your birthday next
month, isn't it?"

"Thank you more than I can thank you," said Guy.

Mrs. Grey waved to Pauline, who drew close.

"Pauline darling, I've thought of such a nice birthday present for Guy
... yes ... charming, charming birthday present ... yes ... for you two
to be engaged."

Pauline threw her arms round her mother's neck; and Guy in his happiness
noticed at that moment how Margaret was sitting by herself on the poop
in the stern. He was wrenched by a sudden compunction, and asked Pauline
if he should not go and tell Margaret.

"Charming of Guy ... yes ... charming," Mrs. Grey enthusiastically
exclaimed. "Now I call that really charming, and Pauline stays with me."

Guy went up the companion and asked Margaret if she were particularly
anxious to be alone. She seemed to pull herself from a day-dream as she
turned to assure him she did not at all particularly want to be alone.
Guy announced his good news, and Margaret offered him her slim hand with
a kind of pathetic grace that moved him very much.

"I think you deserve it," she said, "for you've both been so sweet to me
all this fortnight. I expect you think I don't notice, but I do ...
always."

"Margaret," said Guy, "if this Summer Pauline and I have seemed to run
away from people...."

"Oh, but you have!" Margaret interrupted. "I don't think I should find
excuses, if I were you, for perhaps it's natural."

"I've fancied very often," he said, "that you've thought we were
behaving selfishly."

"I think all lovers are selfish," she answered. "Only in your case you
began in such an idyllic way that I thought you were going to be a
wonderful exception. Guy, I do most dreadfully want you not to spoil in
any way the perfectly beautiful thing that Pauline and you in love is.
You won't, will you?"

"Have I yet?" asked Guy in a rather dismayed voice.

"Do you want me to be frank? Yes, of course you do, and anyway I must be
frank," said Margaret. "Well, sometimes you have-- I don't mean in
wanting always to be alone or in asking her in to Plashers Mead to say
good night. No, I don't mean in those ways so much. Of course they make
me feel a little sad, but smaller things than that make me more uneasy."

"You mean,"