of
such things?" she repeated with a fierce little indrawn breath--"why do
you?--when you know--when I said--explained everything?" She looked at
him fearfully: "You are somehow spoiling our friendship," she said; "and
I don't exactly know how you are doing it, but something of the comfort
of it is being taken away from me--and don't! don't! don't do it!"

She covered her eyes with her clinched hands, stood a moment,
motionless; then her arms dropped, and she turned sharply with a gesture
which left him standing there and walked rapidly across the beach to the
pavilion.

After a little while he followed, pursuing his way very leisurely to his
own quarters. Half an hour later when she emerged with her maid, Selwyn
was not waiting for her as usual; and, scarcely understanding that she
was finding an excuse for lingering, she stood for ten minutes on the
step of the Orchils' touring-car, talking to Gladys about the lantern
fete and dance to be given that night at Hitherwood House.

Evidently Selwyn had already gone home. Gerald came lagging up with
Sheila Minster; but his sister did not ask him whether Selwyn had gone.
Yesterday she would have done so; but to-day had brought to her the
strangest sensation of her young life--a sudden and overpowering fear of
a friend; and yet, strangest of all, the very friend she feared she was
waiting for--contriving to find excuses to wait for. Surely he could not
have finished dressing and have gone. He had never before done that. Why
did he not come? It was late; people were leaving the pavilion;
victorias and beach-phaetons were trundling off loaded to the water-line
with fat dowagers; gay groups passed, hailing her or waving adieux;
Drina drove up in her village-cart, calling out: "Are you coming,
Eileen, or are you going to walk over? Hurry up! I'm hungry."

"I'll go with you," she said, nodding adieu to Gladys; and she swung off
the step and crossed the shell road.

"Jump in," urged the child; "I'm in a dreadful hurry, and Odin can't
trot very fast."

"I'd prefer to drive slowly," said Miss Erroll in a colourless voice;
and seated herself in the village-cart.

"Why must I drive slowly?" demanded the child. "I'm hungry; besides, I
haven't seen Boots this morning. I don't want to drive slowly; must I?"

"Which are you most in a hurry for?" asked Eileen curiously; "luncheon
or Boots?"

"Both--I don't know. What a silly question. Boots of course! But I'm
starving, too."