s parted in a little smile. "We begin our day at six," she
said.

"What energy!" he commented. "I am only energetic when I am on a
holiday."

"You're on business now, then?" queried Molly.

He looked at her keenly as they passed out upon the sunlit road. "I think
you know what my business is," he said.

She did not respond. "I'll take you through the fields," she said. "It's
a short cut. Don't you want to smoke?"

There was something in her manner that struck him as not altogether
natural. He pondered over it as he lighted a cigarette.

"They are cutting the grass in the church fields," said Molly. "Don't you
hear?"

Through the slumberous summer air came the whir of the machine. It was
June.

"It's the laziest sound on earth," said Wyverton.

Molly turned off the road to a stile. "You ought to take a holiday," she
said, as she mounted it.

He vaulted the railing beside it and gave her his hand. "I'm not
altogether a drone, Miss Neville," he said.

Molly seated herself on the top bar and surveyed him. "Of course not,"
she said. "You are here on business, aren't you?"

Wyverton's extended hand fell to his side. "Now what is it you want to
say to me?" he asked her, quietly.

Molly's hands were clasped in her lap. They did not tremble, but they
gripped one another rather tightly.

"I want to say a good many things," she said, after a moment.

Lord Wyverton smiled suddenly. He had meeting brows, but his smile was
reassuring.

"Yes?" he said. "About your sister?"

"Partly," said Molly. She put up an impatient hand and removed her hat.
Her hair shone gloriously in the sunlight that fell chequered through the
overarching trees.

"I want to talk to you seriously, Lord Wyverton," she said.

"I am quite serious," he assured her.

There followed a brief silence. Molly's eyes travelled beyond him and
rested upon the plodding horses in the hay-field.

"I have heard," she said at length, "that men and women in your position
don't always marry for love."

Wyverton's brows drew together into a single, hard, uncompromising line.
"I suppose there are such people to be found in every class," he said.

Molly's eyes returned from the hay-field and met his look steadily. "I
like you best when you don't frown," she said. "I am not trying to insult
you."

His brows relaxed, but he did not smile. "I am sure of that," he said,
courteously. "Please continue."

Molly leaned slightly forward. "I think one should be