'm stronger. Is any one
coming down to-day?"

"No. And only Van Buren, and Vaughan and Muir Howard on Sunday. I see
you've heard from the Walmers. What do they say?"

"It's sure to be nothing of interest. How I love your hair parted on one
side! It makes you look like a boy."

"Not a principal boy, I hope. Why not read the letter?"

Harry got up and fetched himself something from the sideboard.

"I don't feel quite strong enough yet. When I've had breakfast. I should
like to paint you as you're looking now, Val. I think I'll do a sketch
of you in the rose garden, all in black and white, like a Beardsley,
with the balustrades and steps and things behind you. Will you sit to
me?"

"That's all very well. But why don't you read your letter?"

"There's sure to be nothing in it."

"How can you tell till you've opened it?"

"I know. I always feel what's in a letter without opening it. Don't you?
I absorb the essence, as it were, through the covers of the envelope, as
somebody or other--Macaulay, I think--used to absorb all the important
things through the covers of a book. Or wasn't it Macaulay? Anyhow, it
doesn't matter. It was some tiresome person whom one oughtn't to talk
about on a morning like this."

Harry evidently was not quite at his ease.

"But why not read it?" She spoke playfully.

"How persistent women are, just like children. To tease you I just
shan't."

"Oh, Harry!"

"I shan't read it now at all," he went on. "I can answer it without
reading it."

"It's only that I should like to know how the Walmers are enjoying
themselves on _Flying Fish_. Lady Walmer was a little afraid they
mightn't like it."

Here Romer came up to the window and called out--

"I say, Val, come here a minute. I want to ask you something."

"Here I am, dear," and she vanished into the garden.

The second she had gone Harry opened the letter very carefully, and
read--

"Dearest Harry,

"You are a rotter never to write. I'm having _such_ a time. Weather
priceless, but very sick at not hearing from you. Algie Thynne is
here. Do you know him? He's rather a nut. Wish you were here. No
more to-day. Bye-bye, old son.

"Your loving "ALEC."

"P.S.--Do write. The moonlight nights are simply topping. Just like
a picture. I think you'd like it; otherwise everything is beastly.

"I love you more than ever.