f as immune
as she did from any such attraction. But until Fanny had burst in she
had been pleased enough with the vague thoughts which his eyes had waked
to life. If you took the dream down and analysed it as Fanny had rather
ruthlessly done, it became untenable. Probably this man only thought of
her as Landon had thought of her; she was not content to burn her
fingers in the same fire.

Short of being extremely disagreeable, however, she could not avoid
going out to lunch with him the next day, as Fanny had already accepted
the invitation, and once with him, it was impossible not to be friends
with Dick, he set himself so assiduously to please her. He did not make
love to her; Fanny would have said he just loved her. There is delicate
distinction between the two, and instinctively Joan grew to feel at her
ease with him; when they laughed, which they did very often, their
laughter had won back to the glad mirth of children.

Fanny watched over the romance with motherly eyes. She had, in fact, set
her heart upon Joan marrying the young man. He came to the theatre every
evening, but it was not until the sixth day of their acquaintance that
Fanny was able to arrange for him to spend the afternoon alone with
Joan. She had tried often enough before, but Joan had been too wary. On
this particular afternoon, half way through lunch and after the three of
them had just arranged to go out into the country for tea, Fanny
suddenly discovered that she had most faithfully promised to go for a
drive that afternoon in young Swetenham's side-car.

"I am so awfully sorry," she smiled at them sweetly, "but it doesn't
really matter; you two will be just as happy without me."

"We could put it off and go to-morrow," suggested Joan quickly.

"We can go to-morrow too," Dick argued, and Fanny laughed at him.

"Don't disappoint him, honey, it's a shame," she said with unblushing
effrontery, "and if it is a chaperon you are wanting, why, Sockie and I
will meet you out there."

So it was arranged, and Dick and Joan started off alone. They were to
drive out to a farmhouse that Swetenham knew of, where you got the most
delicious jam for tea. Joan was a little shy of Dick to begin with,
sitting beside him tongue-tied, and never letting her eyes meet his.
From time to time, when he was busy with the steering, she would steal a
glance at him from under her lashes. His face gave her a great sense of
security and trust, but at times her memory s