. There was a faint scent of flowers,
fragrant after rain. A thin crescent moon shone in the sky, close to a
bright planet.

"It's going to be a fine Easter, we hope," volunteered Mr. Stockton,
grasping at the well-worn topic of the weather to assist him in the
difficult task of making conversation with a shy girl of sixteen,
evidently unused to small talk.

Terry was in bed when Lesbia arrived, but not asleep. His room led out
of hers, and she was taken in by candle-light to be introduced to him.
She got an impression of a pair of round blue eyes, that stared at her
as if taking her all in, and a crop of short chestnut curls. He could
not be induced to speak a single word.

"He'll talk quite enough to-morrow," volunteered his mother, settling
him down again on his pillow. "Now, Terry, remember you're _not_ to wake
too early. We don't want to hear anything of you till the hot water
comes."

Lesbia, tired after her journey and the excitement of her exodus from
Kingfield, was too weary to sleep. The bed, though comfortable enough,
felt strange, and she tossed about uneasily for hours, with brain racing
in a whirl of galloping thoughts. A clock on the landing, chiming the
quarters, roused her every time she dozed, and it had struck half-past
three before she finally lost consciousness. She slept lightly, with
confused dreams. Suddenly--in the midst of a heated argument with Miss
Pratt--she woke with a start to find something cold on her face. The
dawn was just glinting through the Venetian blinds, and a small
red-headed figure was dancing like an imp beside her bed, brandishing a
wet sponge.

"Done you!" he triumphed. "Done you brown! I told Miss Gordon I'd give
you cold pig. She said I daren't, but I dare! I'm not a bit afraid of
you. You're only sixteen! I heard Mummie say so. No, I _won't_ go back!
I tell you I _won't_!"

For Lesbia had bounced out of bed, wrenched away the sponge, and was
bundling the young man in the direction of his own room. She stopped,
turned him to face her, and glared at him solemnly.

"You'll do what you're told, so I warn you at the beginning. If ever you
come into my room again without asking you'll get more than you bargain
for. I'm not going to stand any disrespect. Now fly! And don't let me
hear another sound, or I'll have to go and fetch your mother. Do you
understand?"

Apparently Terry did, for his bare legs beat a retreat. Once back in his
own quarters, though, he did not ke