ewood was quick to answer her.

"Good! For there's need of none. Will you ride to-morrow?"

Stella took her hands from his and moved across the room towards the
great bay window with its glass doors.

"I should love to," she said.

"Eight. Is that too early after to-night?"

"No, that's the good time," she returned with a smile. "We have the day
at its best and the world to ourselves."

"I'll bring the same horse round. He knows you now, doesn't he?"

"Thank you," said Stella. She unlatched the glass door and opened it.
"You'll lock it after me, won't you?"

"No," said Dick. "I'll see you to your door."

But Stella refused his company. She stood in the doorway.

"There's no need! See what a night it is!" and the beauty of it crept
into her soul and stilled her voice. The moon rode in a blue sky, a disc
of glowing white, the great cedar-trees flung their shadows wide over the
bright lawns and not a branch stirred.

"Listen," said Stella in a whisper and the river rippling against its
banks with now a deep sob and now a fairy's laugh sang to them in notes
most musical and clear. That liquid melody and the flutter of a bird's
wings in the bough of a tree were the only sounds. They stood side by
side, she looking out over the garden to the dim and pearly hills, he
gazing at her uplifted face and the pure column of her throat. They
stood in a most dangerous silence. The air came cool and fresh to their
nostrils. Stella drew it in with a smile.

"Good-night!" She laid her hand for a second on his arm. "Don't
come with me!"

"Why not?"

And the answer came in a clear whisper:

"I am afraid."

Stella seemed to feel the man at her side suddenly grow very still.
"It's only a step," she went on quickly and she passed out of the window
on to the pathway. Dick Hazlewood followed but she turned to him and
raised her hand.

"Don't," she pleaded; the voice was troubled but her eyes were steady.
"If you come with me I shall tell you."

"What?" he interrupted, and the quickness of the interruption broke the
spell which the night had laid upon her.

"I shall tell you again how much I thank you," she said lightly. "I shall
cross the meadow by the garden gate. That brings me to my door."

She gathered her skirt in her hand and crossed the pathway to the edge of
the grass.

"You can't do that," exclaimed Dick and he was at her side. He stooped
and felt the turf. "Even the lawn's drenched. Crossing the meadow you'll