erates things all round. From what he said to
me in that letter--"

"That letter you wouldn't show me?"

"Yes. I couldn't, Pixie! It was in confidence, and besides, he said
nothing _definite_. It was only inferred. It's just because he
idealises you so much that he thinks he is not worthy. No one can tell
what a man will do when it comes to the time, but what he _means_ to do
is evidently--to say nothing!"

"Oh!" said Pixie. She nibbled a fragment of cake for a thoughtful
moment, and then said calmly--

"So now I know. Thank you, Bridgie. _Please_ don't say any more!"

"No, darling, no, I won't; only please just one thing--it has puzzled me
so much, and I have longed to know. ... There's never been any reserve
between us--you have confided in me so openly all your life till just
these last years. _Why_ didn't you tell me you were unhappy about
Stanor?"

"How could I, me dear, when I might be his wife? It wouldn't have been
loyal. And it wasn't unhappiness exactly, only--a weight. I was
_trying_ to keep on loving him, and hating myself for finding it
difficult, but I knew if he came back loving me, and wanting me to help
him, the weight would go. But you see, he didn't!"

"Pixie, dear, one should not need to _try_. That sort of love ought to
feel no strain."

"If Stanor had needed me, I should have married him," Pixie said
obstinately, "but he didn't, and, me dear, excuse me! It's not the most
agreeable subject. ... Let's talk of something else."

The next day Stephen Glynn arrived, and put up at an hotel. An
agricultural show which was being held in the town made an excuse for
his visit; it also made a vantage ground for daily excursions, and gave
opportunities of securing _tete-a-tete_ to those anxious to do so.
Pixie was conscious that several such opportunities had in Stephen's
case been of intent ignored and allowed to pass by, but never once did
she doubt the motive which prompted such neglect. From the moment of
their meeting the consciousness of his love had enveloped her. He might
set a seal on his lips, but he could not control his eyes, and the
wistfulness of that glance made Pixie brave.

Almost the first opportunity for undisturbed conversation came on the
afternoon of the third day, when Stephen paid an unexpected call at the
house to propose an expedition for the evening, and found Pixie alone.

She was sitting writing in the pretty, flower-decked room, where the
French w