es with all the _aplomb_ of innocence. She just walked
upstairs and walked into the room where Jephson and I were packing
gun-cases.

"Hallo!" said she. "You seem to be in a mess here."

"Please sit down," said I, removing a sporting rifle and bundle of
cotton-waste from the best arm-chair.

"What is the matter?" she asked, arching her brows as she surveyed
the general disorder.

"We're packing," said I.

"It may surprise you to hear it," said she, taking the seat, "but so
I had guessed. What is it? Preparing for the pheasants, or for
Quarter Day?"

"Neither," I answered. "I'm going to South America, that's all.
. . . That will do for the present, Jephson. You may get Miss
Denistoun a cup of tea."

"Sudden?" she asked, when Jephson had withdrawn.

"Well," I admitted, "I booked my passage only two days ago, but I've
had the notion in my mind for some time."

"Alligators, is it? or climbing, this time? Or just general
exploring?"

"You may call it exploring, though I may have a shy at the Andes on
the way. These fits come upon me at intervals, Constantia, as you
know, ever since you determined to be unkind."

"Don't be absurd, Roddy," she commanded, tracing out a pattern of the
carpet with the point of her sunshade. The tracing took some time.
At length she desisted, and looked up, resting her arms on her knees.
"Roddy, I'm engaged to be married."

A bowl stood on the table, full of late tea-roses sent up from
Warwickshire. . . . As the blow fell I turned about, and slowly
selected the best bloom.

"I hope," said I, "the fortunate man, whoever he is, doesn't object
to your calling around on us poor bachelors and breaking the news.
However, Jimmy Collingwood is up, with his wife, and will be coming
around from his hotel in a few minutes. He'll do for a chaperon.
Meanwhile"--I held out the rose--"I wish you all happiness from the
bottom of my heart. . . . When is it to be?--and shall I be in time
with an alligator for a wedding present?"

"Now that's rather prettily offered," said Constantia, half-extending
her hand to take the flower, her eyes shining with just the trace of
tears. "But you and I are a pair of humbugs, Roddy. To begin with
_you_--I don't believe there are any such things as alligators on
that island."

"What island?" I stammered, and my fingers gave a small, involuntary
jerk at the rose's stem as hers closed upon it.

"The island about which you wrote that queer short not