cion. "You will be here
in July? There is no chance that you may be away paying other visits?"

Cornelia shook her head.

"I have no other relations over here. So far as I know at present, I
shall stay on here until Poppar comes over to fetch me. We're going to
fly round together for two or three months after that."

Guest drew a sigh of relief, but as he took Cornelia's outstretched hand
in his own to say good-bye, he added a hesitating request--

"If for any unexpected reason you should be leaving Norton during the
next three or four weeks, will you let me know? A line to my club will
always be forwarded. If there were any uncertainty about seeing you
again, I--" his voice lost its level tone, and became husky and
disconnected. "These visits don't matter.--I could put them off.--I am
_making_ myself go, because..." His fingers tightened over hers in
involuntary appeal, "Cornelia! I wonder if you understand what is in my
mind?"

She looked into his kindled face with serious, unwavering eyes. For a
moment it appeared as if she had some difficulty in managing her voice,
but when she spoke it was calm and self-possessed as ever.

"I understand that you've been a real true friend to me, Captain Guest,
and I'm grateful for all the good times we've had together... That's
all we need worry about to-day. Elma is waiting! I mustn't keep her
longer. ... Good-bye again! I wish you a real pleasant time!"

She drew her hand from his, gently enough, yet with a determination
which could not be opposed. In her voice there was the same note of
finality; the composure of her pale, fixed look checked the words on
Guest's lips, and left him chilled and wondering.

"For three weeks, then!" he murmured softly, but no echoing assurance
came in reply.

Cornelia carried the all-important message to Elma in her den, cheered
her with affectionate prophecies, and hurried back to the shelter of her
own bedroom. Safe behind locked doors she stood before the mirror on
her dressing-table, staring at her own reflection with the implacable
air of a judge regarding a prisoner at the bar. The slight figure was
held proudly erect, the lips set in a straight, hard line, but the
eyes--poor tell-tale woman's eyes!--the eyes wavered, and on the white
cheeks flamed two patches of rosy red. Cornelia turned on her heel,
and, crossing the room to her writing-table, tore open a letter which
lay there already addressed to her father in