ater," said she.

Her voice was not unsteady, but there was that in her tone that made me
look at her. Her lashes were wet.

As the car swung out of the gates, our hands touched. I took hers in
mine and held it. Then I started. It was the left hand, but there was
no ring upon its fingers. I tightened my hold. So we sat for two
minutes or more. Then:

"Do you think they would see?" I said, glancing at the chauffeur and
groom.

"I'm afraid they might. But--"

"But what, darling?"

"It wouldn't matter very much if they did, would it?"

We reached the station simultaneously with the seven ten. As the groom
opened the door--

"Come along, dear." I handed her out. Turning to the servant, "Bring
the bag and the dressing--case," I added. "Quick!"

"Yes, sir."

A small boy waved an implement and uttered a feeble protest about
tickets, but we thrust past him on to the platform. There I looked
round wildly.

"Where's Delphine?" I cried.

"I don't believe she's come," wailed my companion.

I turned to the groom.

"You'd better go back," I said. "Put those things down and go back to
the car, in case we miss her ladyship's maid. Don't let her go off in
the wagonette."

"Very good, sir."

He put the luggage on a seat and ran back to the exit. Exactly
opposite to where we were standing was a first-class carriage. As the
guard's whistle was blown:

"Have you got my bag, Peter?" said a plaintive voice.

"Yes, m'dear," and Sir Peter and Lady Tagel passed down the platform.
We watched them greedily.

The train began to move.

"The last lap," said Berry. "Courage, my travel-stained comrades.
Where was it we broke down? Oh, yes, Scrota Gruff. Such a sweet name,
so full of promise, so--"

Then he took his head in and pulled up the window.

"Fancy you two being in the next carriage all the time," said Daphne.
"I expect Boy's introduced himself, Julia dear. Yes, I thought so.
Still for what it's worth, my brother--Lady Julia Lory."

Which is why she's 'my lady'. Though she always says it isn't.

CHAPTER X

PRIDE GOETH BEFORE

"Who is Silvia? What is she?
That all her swains commend he.
Holy, fair, and wise is she;
The heaven such grace did lend her,
That she might admired be."

The song and its melody floated out into the night, away and over the
sleeping countryside. In no way breaking the silence; rising up out of
it, rather. It was as if Nature dreamed as she