give
you some pins, and there is a little summer-house at the end of the
path, where you can sit down and fasten it properly. I'll stand before
the door and screen you from the public gaze."

"Oh, thanks, it will be all right; I am thankful it was not further up.
The hem can always be shortened," said Ruth practically. She sat down
in a corner of the summer-house, the windows of which were screened by
thickly growing tendrils of hop, and, spreading out the tear, began to
pin it daintily together, while Lady Margot mounted guard outside.

A minute passed--two minutes--then came the sound of a man's quick
tread, and a voice spoke, a voice broken by a quiver of emotion which
could tell only one tale.

"Lady Margot! You here? I have been looking for you all afternoon.
Why did you hide yourself in this out-of-the-way place? You knew I
should be waiting."

The pin fell from Ruth's hand, she sat motionless as a statue behind the
leafy screen. It could not, could not be Victor's voice!

"I have not been here many minutes," Lady Margot replied quietly. "I
knew we should meet sooner or later; but you are a public character to-
day, and I must not monopolise your attention."

"Monopolise!" cried the voice again, the familiar voice with the
strange, unfamiliar thrill. Ruth's head dropped forward and her hands
clasped the seat on either side. "You talk of monopolising, while I
starve all week with just a chance five minutes now and then to keep me
alive! I rode for about three hours yesterday morning without even a
glimpse of you in the distance. I have been counting the hours until
this afternoon."

"Count them just a little bit longer, then; I have not spoken to half my
friends, and we would certainly be interrupted. Do me a favour and go
back to the lawn now, and later on--say in half an hour--come to me
again, and you shall have your reward."

"I'd wait a hundred years if I could have what I wanted at the end!"
said the voice passionately.

Footsteps crunched down the path, then came silence, and the falling of
a shadow across the doorway. Ruth lifted an ashen face, and saw Lady
Margot looking down upon her with tender, liquid eyes.

"Dear," she said gently, "you heard! I _meant_ you to hear. Don't
think me cruel; it was the truest kindness. You and I have something to
say to each other. I know a quiet nook where we can be alone. Come,
Ruth--come with me!"

Ruth rose mechanically and followed her