"And happy?"

She answered him with her eyes.

"Why, Pauline, I believe you're quite shy of me!"

She blushed.

"I really am a little, you know," she whispered. "Did you like Richard?
Oh, Guy, I hope you did."

"Of course I did."

"And, Guy, you don't mind if I go for a walk with him to-morrow morning?
You see, I know he's longing to hear about Margaret and himself."

"But you'll come out with me in the afternoon?"

"Why, of course."

"Then Richard may have the morning," said Guy. "And I hope you'll
arrange everything between him and Margaret so successfully that he
won't steal any more hours from me."

When Pauline had left Guy that evening she thought how strangely it had
been like meeting him for the first time all over again. Or rather it
was as if they had walked a long way down the wrong road and were now
beginning to walk somewhat tentatively along what she hoped was surely
the right road at last. Her duty was above all to help Guy with the
material burdens; she must never again let him think that his debts or
his prospects had any power to worry her. Merely most tactfully must she
try to keep him from extravagance, and, oh dear, how she hoped that he
had not bought her an expensive birthday present. It was too late to say
anything about it now, but if Guy had been wisely economical how happy
she would be. How she hoped, too, that Richard had not brought home from
India a present that would annoy Margaret. Really, it was a most
oppressive business, this week before her coming of age, for between
Guy's extravagance and Richard's ... well, it was really not so much bad
taste as Indian taste. She would love anything he gave her, of course,
but perhaps he would consult beforehand with Margaret. Dear Richard, he
was so sweet and touching, and if only he had not brought her something
_very_ elaborately carved. She met him next morning half-way to
Fairfield, and two years were obliterated as she kept pace with his long
stride when they turned aside from the highroad and tramped upward over
the grassy wold.

"Richard, isn't it very hot in India?"

He nodded.

"And didn't you ever get used to walking a bit more slowly in India?"

He laughed.

"You lazy little thing. I thought you and Aunt Verney had been in
training at Scarborough? Come on, let's sit down then."

They sat down, and Richard drew with his stick in the close turf.

"Is that your bridge?" Pauline asked, with all the interest she could
p