ng very upright as she turned and coasted on her free-wheel
machine down the slight hill towards me. For an instant I thought of
turning away my face, so that, even if she remembered it, she should not
recognise me; but she looked so bright and pleasant an object in the
middle of the sunny road that, on the impulse of the moment, I rose to
my feet, crossed the margin of grass, and lifted the cloth cap which had
been given to me before I reached Polehampton.

Jacintha was off her machine at once. 'Why,' she cried, 'you are the boy
who ran away!'

'My name is Everard, you know,' I answered.

'But I thought you said you were going to London?' she suggested.

'So I am.'

'It is not the nearest way from where you were to come through
Hazleton,' said Jacintha.

'You see,' I explained, thrusting my fingers into my waistcoat pocket,
'I came to bring back your locket,' and I held it out towards her in the
palm of my right hand.

'My locket?' she said, gazing at it while she held the handle of her
bicycle.

'Yes,' I answered. 'I found it on the path just by the hedge where you
were standing.'

'But I did not bring a locket with me from London,' she exclaimed, and I
felt immensely disappointed.

'Isn't it really yours, then?' I asked.

'Of course not,' she returned. 'How can it be if I didn't bring one?'
and then she removed one hand from the bicycle, and took the locket from
my palm, which I wished had not been so extremely grimy. 'I think it is
very pretty,' she continued, 'and I believe it is gold.'

'Oh, it is gold right enough!' I said, 'because it has a hall-mark. It
is eighteen carat.'

'Have you come out of your way just because you thought it was mine?'
she asked, giving me back the trinket.

'It was not very far,' I persisted.

'Rather nice of you, though,' said Jacintha.

'If it comes to that,' I answered, 'you were rather nice to me that day.
Some girls would have given me away, and then I should have been back at
Ascot House before now.'

As I was speaking, she took a small gold watch from her pocket.

'I must not be late,' she cried, 'because both Dick and I were late for
breakfast.'

'Who is Dick?' I asked, as she put away her watch.

'Dick is my brother,' Jacintha explained. 'He only came down yesterday.
Dick's a year older than I am. I really ought to go,' she added. 'If my
uncle were to see me talking to you he mightn't like it.'

'I suppose,' I cried a little angrily, 'he would think