smiled, then looked at him seriously.

"Dion, do you know that you've come back much more Doric than you were
when you went out?"

"Have I, Rose?"

"Much more."

"Do you like me less because of that?"

She blushed faintly.

"No," she said.

That faint blush made Dion's heart bound, he scarcely knew why. But he
only said soberly:

"I'm glad of that. And now about Robin. You're right. He can't walk over
stubble with me, but why shouldn't I stick him on a pony?"

"Oh--a pony! How he would love it!"

"Can't I get hold of one?"

"But Job Crickendon's got one!"

"Job Crick-- . . . ?"

"Mrs. Dickinson's brother who's lending you the partridges. Don't say
another word, Dion. I'll arrange it all. Robin will be in the seventh
heaven."

"And you must come with us."

Rosamund was about to speak quickly. Dion saw that. Her eyes shone; she
opened her lips. But something, some sudden thought, stopped her. After
a minute she said quietly:

"We'll see."

And she gave Dion a curious, tender look which he did not quite
understand. Surely she was keeping some delicate secret from him, one
of those dear secrets which perhaps will never be told, but which are
sometimes happily guessed.

Dion could not help seeing that Rosamund eagerly wanted to attach him to
Welsley. He felt that she had not honestly and fully faced the prospect
of returning to live in London. Her plan--he saw it plainly; the
partridge shooting was part of it--was to make Welsley so delightful to
him that he would not want to give up the home at Little Cloisters.
What was to be done? He disliked, he almost hated, the thought that his
return would necessitate an unpleasant change in Rosamund's life. Yet
something within him told him that he ought to be firm. He was obliged
to live in London, and therefore it was only natural and right that
Rosamund and Robin should live in London too. After this long separation
he ought not to have to face a semi-bachelor life; three days of the
week at Little Cloisters and four days alone in Little Market Street. He
must put Rosamund to the test. That faint blush, which he would not soon
forget, made him hope that she would come out of the test triumphantly.

If she did, how splendid it would be. His heart yearned at the thought
of a Rosamund submissive to his wish, unselfish out of the depth
of--dared he think of it as a new growth of love within her, tending
towards a great flowering which would bring a glory int