even
allow us to ask a question."

"He obeyed my orders," Fenella replied. "I meant it for a little
surprise for you. I thought that it would be pleasant after your
drive to have you call here and rest for a short time. You must
present me to your friend."

Arnold murmured a word of introduction. Ruth moved a little in her
seat. She lifted herself with her left hand, leaning upon her stick.
Fenella's expression changed as though by magic. Her cool,
good-humored, but almost impertinent scrutiny suddenly vanished. She
moved to the side of the motor car and held out both her hands.

"I am so glad to see you here," she declared. "I hope that you will
like some tea after your long ride. Perhaps you would prefer Mr.
Chetwode to help you out?"

"You are very kind," Ruth murmured. "I am sorry to be such a trouble
to everybody."

Arnold lifted her bodily out of the car and placed her on the edge
of the lawn. Fenella, a long parasol in her hand, was looking
pleasantly down at her guest.

"You will find it quite picturesque here, I think," she said. "It is
not really the river itself which comes to the end of the lawn, but
a little stream. It is so pretty, though, and so quiet. I thought
you would like to have tea down there. But, my poor child," she
exclaimed, "your hair is full of dust! You must come to my room. It
is on the ground floor here. Mr. Chetwode and I together can help
you so far."

They turned back toward the house and passed into the cool white
hall, the air of which was fragrant with the perfume of geraniums
and clematis. On the threshold of Fenella's room they were alone for
a moment. Fenella was summoning her maid. Ruth clung nervously to
Arnold. The room into which they looked was like a fairy chamber,
full of laces and perfume and fine linen.

"Arnold," she whispered, "you are sure that you did not know about
coming here?"

"I swear that I had no idea," he answered. "I would not have thought
of bringing you without telling you first."

Then Fenella returned and he was banished into the garden. At the
end of the lawn he found Mr. Weatherley, half asleep in a wicker
chair. The latter was apparently maintaining his good spirits.

"Glad to see you, Chetwode," he said. "Sort of plot of my wife's, I
think. Your young lady friend in the house?"

"Mrs. Weatherley was kind enough to take her to her room," Arnold
replied. "We have had a most delightful ride, and I suppose it was
dusty, although we never