ough she hardly knew
why. She stopped dead and looked back through the leafy wood.

"Shall we wait for the others?" she asked nervously.

It was some seconds before Peg and Forrester joined them.

"Mrs. Forrester tells me that she has never been out of England," Digby
said. "And I tell her that if that is so she has not yet begun to live!
London's all right--finest place in the world, bar none, but to
appreciate it properly you ought to go away from it for months."

"I hate London," Faith said impulsively.

He opened his eyes in amazement.

"Really! What part have you lived in?"

Faith coloured and did not answer, but Peg broke in in her usual blunt
way:

"Poplar. That's where she lived till she got married. I lived there,
too. It's a frightful hole! No wonder she hates London; you would if
you'd seen the rotten side of it as we have."

Faith glanced quickly at her husband. She was so sure that he would be
angry with Peg for her frankness, but to her surprise he was smiling.

"One would hardly choose the East End for a permanent residence,
certainly," Digby said, in some perplexity; "but everyone to their
taste."

"It wasn't a question of 'taste,'" Peg said dryly; "it was more like
Hobson's choice. I had to be where the bread and cheese was, and it
happened to be in Poplar--that's all."

There was a little silence. Digby was beginning to see that he was on
delicate ground.

"I think we ought to be turning back," Forrester said.

They retraced their steps silently.

"Shall we change places going home?" Faith asked, as she slipped into
her big coat when they reached the car again. She looked at Peg.
"Perhaps you would rather sit in the front for a change," she said
hesitatingly.

Peg looked at the Beggar Man, and he answered for her readily:

"We were quite comfortable as we were, I think, Miss Fraser?"

"Quite," said Peg.

Faith took a hurried step towards Digby.

"Oh, very well. I would really prefer to sit in the front; I only
thought it would look rather selfish."

There was a note of uncertainty in her voice, and Peg's blue eyes
gleamed with a vixenish light as she settled herself comfortably beside
Forrester.

They were rather silent on the way home, but beneath her gaudy veil
Peg's quick brain was hard at work.

She knew that Faith was faintly resentful, if not actively jealous, and
a sense of triumph warmed her heart.

She had read in one of her favourite novelettes of a heroine who