at! you don't mean to say that you ever----"

"Sometimes," she interrupted. "A good deal of late, only, unlike you,
I never let anybody guess."

"I thought you were a perfectly happy girl in the first flood of
enthusiasm for your work and with all those nice men to admire you."

Her fingers tightened perceptibly on his.

"If you continue to plague me about those nice men, Morgan, you shall
not have a single dance next time, but you'll just see those nice men
get them all."

"I am sure you don't look a bit as if you could devise such cruel
torture."

"Would it be a very terrible punishment?"

"I would do any penance to avoid it."

"You'd look too comic in sackcloth and ashes. Come to my
studio-warming instead."

"A charming penance, Margaret."

"Perhaps we ought to go down now," she suggested, irrelevantly.

He took up the light again.

"Have you fixed the date for the warming?"

"Impossible yet. But I'll send you----"

"Not cards--now you've moved up into Bohemia!"

"Oh, no. A little pink note. I hope that is the correct thing in
Bohemia, or, at least, that it isn't incorrect."

"In Bohemia there are no correct things."

"What an awful place it must be. Whatever one does is wrong."

"On the contrary, whatever one does is right."

"Then all things are correct in Bohemia!"

"How can that be, Margaret? There are things--no, there aren't,
and--and--I'm afraid I've got myself into an awful tangle. You've
quite turned my head with your logic."

He began to move across the room towards the door.

"If it's only my logic that turns your head, then I take everything
back. I won't speak to you ever again."

"My goodness!" began Morgan, losing his wits, forgetting he held the
candle and letting it fall. The light vanished like a spectre. "I beg
your pardon," he ejaculated, in some astonishment, whilst Margaret's
laugh rang out.

Just as he stooped down to recover the candle, they became aware of
footsteps, and in a moment the handle of the outer door was being
turned.

"All dark," said Diana's voice. "Then I suppose they're not here--or,
at least, I shouldn't like to think they were. I fancy Marjy put a
candle and matches on the table."

They heard the sound of her fumbling, and, as if by common
understanding, they remained still as mice. Then Diana declared the
things weren't there, and Archibald suggested they might inspect the
place in the dark.

"I certainly shall do nothing so improper," re