pale gold sun was going low amid oceans of amber touched with rose, and
above dappled clouds were floating as though the day was February.

"It is so cold," said Eileen, and shivered. "I don't see how Margaret
can get on without fitting me. She had made up such a nice fire in my
room. I cannot see why any one wants to go out in such weather."

"Oh, come along, you little grumbler!" Lady O'Gara said with her
infectious gaiety. "Come for a good trot. I know what will happen to
you: you'll get chilblains if you sit by the fire in cold weather.
Your hands will be dreadful to look at, and your feet will be a
torture."

Eileen looked down at her feet and then at her hands, childishly. She
had very pretty feet and hands.

"They are all right so far," she said.

"You and Terry had better race each other to the bridge," Lady O'Gara
said. "I want to see the colour in your face, child."

"Come along," said Terry, and caught at Eileen's hand.
Half-unwillingly she ran with him, but when Lady O'Gara caught up with
them, Eileen was laughing and panting.

"This wretched son of yours," she said, "has run me off my feet."

"And you look the better for it," Lady O'Gara answered, her brown eyes
merry and her cheeks dimpling like a girl's. "We are going for Stella,
to bring her back to tea. She has not been near us for some days."

"Oh!" Eileen had gone back to the chilly voice. "She doesn't want to
come. She finds us rather dull, I think."

Lady O'Gara laughed.

"I don't believe any one could find us dull," she said merrily, "least
of all Stella."

"Oh well, I suppose I'm not telling the truth," Eileen said huffily.
"All I know is she asked me the last time I saw her if Terry ever
brought any of his brother-officers home with him."

Terry's candid face clouded over ever so slightly; while his mother
remarked that, of course, three was an awkward number for games. They
wanted another man. She believed she had been talking about it.

"You might ask Major Evelyn," she said to Terry. "It is still possible
to have golf when there is fine weather."

"I wonder if he would come?" Terry said ingenuously. "Think of a
second-lieutenant like me asking a swell like Evelyn! Why, his
decorations make a perfect breastplate when he chooses to put them on.
Not that it is a matter of choice. He only does it when he can't help
it. He did so splendidly in South Africa."

"I dare say he'd condescend to come," Lady O'Gara