th that simple, wistful
expression of his!

They went on talking, and then, following in secret the train of her own
thoughts, she suddenly burst out:

"I never met anybody like you before." A pause ensued. "No, never!" she
added, with intense conviction.

"I might say the same of you," he replied, moved.

"Oh no! I'm nothing!" she breathed.

She glanced up, exquisitely flattered. His face was crimson. Exquisite
moment, in the familiarity of the breakfast-room, by the fire, she on
the sofa, with him standing over her, a delicious peril. The crimson
slowly paled.

III

Osmond Orgreave entered the room, quizzical, and at once began to tease
Clayhanger about the infrequency of his visits.

Turning to Hilda, he said: "He scarcely ever comes to see us, except
when you're here." It was just as if he had said: "I heard every word
you spoke before I came in, and I have read your hearts." Both Hilda and
Clayhanger were disconcerted--Clayhanger extremely so.

"Steady on!" he protested uncouthly. And then, with the most naive
ingenuousness: "Mrs. Orgreave better?"

But Osmond Orgreave was not in a merciful mood. A moment later he was
saying:

"Has she told you she wants to go over a printing-works?"

"No," Clayhanger answered, with interest. "But I shall be very pleased
to show her over ours, any time."

Hilda struck into silence, made no response, and instantly Clayhanger
finished, in another tone: "Look here, I must be off. I only slipped in
for a minute--really."

And he went, declining Mr. Orgreave's request to give a date for his
next call. The bang of the front door resounded through the house.

Mr. Orgreave, having taken Clayhanger to the front door, did not return
immediately into the breakfast-room. Hilda jumped up from the sofa,
hesitant. She was disappointed; she was even resentful; assuredly she
was humiliated. "Oh no!" she thought. "He's weak and afraid.... I dare
say he went off because Janet wasn't here." She heard through the
half-open door Mr. Orgreave's slippers on the tiles of the passage
leading to the stairs.

Martha came into the room with a delighted, curious smile.

"If you please, miss, could you come into the hall a minute?... Some one
to speak to you."

Hilda blushed silently, and obeyed. Clayhanger was standing in the chill
hall, hat in hand. Her heart jumped.

"When will you come to look over our works?" he muttered rapidly and
very nervously, and yet with a dictatorial gruf