life. They can never return, it is true. But the memory of them is mine
for ever. Of that can no one deprive me. While I live I shall cherish
them in my heart."

He cheeked himself abruptly; she was gazing at him with a sort of
speculative wonder that had arrested the tragedy in her eyes. At his
sudden pause she began to smile.

"Bertie, dear, forgive me, but I can't help thinking what a funny
Englishman you would have made! So you really don't think it was my
fault? I'm so glad. I should break my heart if it were."

He stooped, catching her hands up to his lips, whispering inarticulately.

She suffered him, half-laughing. "Silly Frenchman!" she said softly.

And at that he looked up and let her go. "You are right," he said,
speaking rather thickly. "I am foolish. I am mad. And you--you have the
patience of an angel to support me thus."

"Oh no," said Chris. "I'm not a bit like an angel. In fact, I'm rather
wicked sometimes--not very, you know, Bertie, only rather. Now let me
show you my presents. I brought them up here on purpose."

So gaily she diverted the conversation, mainly because she had caught a
gleam of tears in her friend's eyes and was aware that they had not been
far from her own. It would never do for them to sit crying together on
her birthday night. Besides, it was too ridiculous, for what was there to
cry about? Bertrand was in a better position now than he had been for
years. And she--and she--well, it was her birthday, and surely that was
reason enough for being glad.

It was Bertrand who at length gently drew her attention to the time. They
had been talking for the best part of an hour.

"Will not the supper dances be nearly finished?" he suggested.

"Oh, goodness!" exclaimed Chris. "Yes, long ago. We must fly. Say
good-bye to Cinders. You will come and see him again soon, won't you?
Come just as often as you can."

At the door she paused a moment, slipped a warm hand into his, and for
the first time shyly broke her silence upon the subject of her
approaching marriage.

"I'm so glad you are coming to live with us when we are married," she
said. "I shall never feel lonely with you there."

"You would not be lonely without me," he made quick response. "You will
have always your husband."

She caught her breath, and then laughed. "To be sure. I hadn't thought of
that. But Trevor is always busy, and he is going to write a book too."
She looked at him with sudden mischief in her eyes. "Yes