afternoon, which means she will arrive with a perfect
avalanche of boxes, each containing a dinkier hat than the last, and I
shall fall a helpless victim."

Her husband grinned unkindly.

"Yes, do come along, Penny," he urged. "Then you can lay a restraining
hand on Kitty when she's bought the first half dozen."

"There'll just be time before dinner, and the car shall bring you back
again," entreated Kitty, and Penelope, knowing that the former would be
but clay in the practised hands of her "little milliner," smiled
acquiescence.

"Barry"--Kitty tapped her husband's arm--"go down and see if the car is
there. Peter, can I drop you anywhere?"

In a couple of minutes the room was cleared, and Kitty, shepherding her
flock before her, departed in a gale of good-byes, leaving Nan and Maryon
Rooke together.

Each was silent. The girl's small head was thrown back, and in the poise
of her slim young body there was a mingling of challenge and appealing
self-defence. She looked like some trapped wild thing at bay.

Slowly Rooke crossed the room and came towards her, and as she met those
odd, magnetic eyes of his--passionately expressive as only hazel eyes can
be--she felt the old fascination stealing over her once more. Her heart
sank. She had dreaded this, fought against it, and in her inmost soul
believed that she had conquered it. Yet now his mere presence sent the
blood racing through, her veins with a hurrying, leaping speed that
frightened her.

"Nan!" As he spoke he bent and took her two hands gently into his.
Then, as though the touch of her slight fingers roused some slumbering
fire within him, his grasp tightened suddenly. He drew her nearer, his
eyes holding hers, and her slim body swayed towards him, yielding to the
eager clasp of his arms.

"Kiss me, Nan!" he said, the roughness of passion in his voice. "You
never kissed me--never in all those beautiful months we were together.
And now--now when there's only parting ahead of us--"

His eyes burned down on to her tilted face. She could hear his hurried
breathing. His lips were almost touching hers.

. . . Then the door opened quickly and Peter Mallory stood upon the
threshold.

Swiftly though they started apart, it was impossible that he should not
have seen Rooke holding Nan close in his arms, his head bent above hers.
Their attitude was unmistakable--it could have but one significance.

Mallory paused abruptly in the doorway. Then, in a