e a model host," he said, "and come with you. It is always
the function of the model host, is it not, to neglect the whole of the
rest of the guests, and attach himself to the one most charming?"

She shook her head at him.

"I dare not risk being so unpopular," she declared. "Really, don't
bother to come. It is such a very short distance."

"That decides me," he answered, falling into step with her. "A short
walk is exactly what I want. For the last few days I have been
oppressed with a horrible fear. I am afraid of growing fat!"

She looked at his long slim figure, and laughed derisively.

"You will have to find another reason for this sudden desire for
exercise," she remarked.

"Do I need to find one?" he answered, laughing down into her pretty
face.

She shook her head.

"This is all very well," she said, "but I quite understand that it is
my last morning. I know what will happen this afternoon, and I really
do not think that I shall allow you to come past that gate."

"Why not?" he asked earnestly.

"You know very well that Pauline is coming," she answered.

The change in his face was too slight for her to notice it, but there
was a change. His lips moved as though he were repeating the name to
himself.

"And why should Pauline's coming affect the situation?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"You say nice things to me," she declared, looking at him
reproachfully, "but only when Pauline isn't here. We all know that
directly she comes we are no longer any of us human beings. I wish I
were intelligent."

"Don't!" he begged. "Don't wish anything so foolish. Intelligence is
the greatest curse of the day. Few people possess it, it is true, but
those few spend most of their time wishing they were fools."

"Am I a fool?" she asked.

"Of course," he answered. "All pretty and charming people are fools."

"And Pauline?" she asked.

"Pauline, unfortunately, is amongst the cursed," he answered.

"That, I suppose," she remarked, "is what brings you so close
together."

"It is a bond of common suffering," he declared. "By the bye, who is
this ferocious-looking person?"

It was Saton who had suddenly turned the corner, and whose expression
had certainly darkened for a moment as he came face to face with the
two. He was correctly enough dressed in gray tweeds and thick walking
boots, but somehow or other his sallow face and dark, plentiful hair,
seemed to go oddly with his country clothes.

Rochester g