. He asked if he might hope to find me alone.... I
didn't know exactly what to say. So I told him about the rose
arbour.... He said he would pay his respects to your mother and sister
and then ask their permission to see me there alone."

They came to the veranda; Dulcie seated herself on the steps and he
remained standing on the grass in front of her.

"Remember," he said quietly, "that I can never care less for you than
I do at this moment.... Don't forget what I say, Dulcie."

She looked up at him, happy, wondering, even perhaps a little
apprehensive in her uncertainty as to his meaning.

He did not seem to care to enlighten her further. His mood changed,
too, even as she looked at him, and she saw the troubled gravity fade
and the old gaiety glimmering in his eyes:

"I've a mind to put you on a horse, Sweetness, and see what happens,"
he remarked.

"Oh, Garry! I don't want to tumble off before _you_!"

"Before whom had you rather land on that red head of yours?" he
inquired. "I'd be more sympathetic than many."

"I'd rather have Thessa watch me break my neck. Do you mind? It's
horrid to be so sensitive, I suppose. But, Garry, I couldn't bear to
have you see me so shamefully awkward and demoralised."

"Fancy your being awkward! Well, all right----"

He looked across the lawn, where Thessalie and Westmore sat together,
just outside the tennis court, under a brilliant lawn umbrella.

Oddly enough, the spectacle caused him no subtle pang, although their
heads were pretty close together and their mutual absorption in
whatever they were saying appeared evident enough.

"Let 'em chatter," he said after an instant's hesitation. "Thessa or
my sister can ride with you this afternoon when it's cooler. I suppose
you'll take to the saddle as though born there."

"Oh, I hope so!"

"Sure thing. All Irish girls--of your quality--take to it."

"My--quality?"

"Yours.... It's merely happened so," he added irrelevantly, "--but the
contrary couldn't have mattered ... as long as you are _you_! Nothing
else matters one way or another. You _are_ you: that answers all
questions, fulfils all requirements----"

"I _don't_ quite understand what you say, Garry!"

"Don't you, Sweetness? Don't you understand why you've always been
exactly what you appear like at this moment?"

She looked at him with her lovely, uncertain smile:

"I've always been myself, I suppose. You are teasing me dreadfully!"

He laughed in a nervou