odd miles of road that separated Buddesby from Starden.

And each time he got the car out a pair of black eyes watched him with
smouldering anger and passion and jealousy. A pair of small hands were
clenched tightly, a girl's heart was aching and throbbing with love and
hate and undisciplined passions, as though it must break.

But he did not see, though Constance did, and she felt troubled and
anxious. She had understood for long how it was with Ellice. She had
seen the girl's eyes turned with dog-like devotion towards the man who
was all unconscious of the passion he had aroused. But she saw it all in
her quiet way, and was anxious and worried, as a kindly, gentle,
tender-hearted woman must be when she notices one of her own sex give
all the love of a passionate heart to one who neither realises nor
desires it.

So, day after day, Johnny drove over to Starden, and when he came Helen
would smile quietly and take herself off about some household duty,
leaving the young people together. And Joan would greet him with a smile
from which all coldness now had gone, for she accepted him as a friend.
She saw his sterling worth, his honour and his honesty. He was like some
great boy, so open and transparent was he. To her he had become
"Johnny," to him she was "Joan."

To-day they were wandering up and down the garden paths, side by side.

The garden lay about them, glowing in the sunshine of the early
afternoon. Beyond the high bank of hollyhocks and the further hedge of
dark yew, clipped into fantastic form, one could catch a glimpse of the
old house, with its steep sloping roof, its many gables, its whitened
walls, lined and crossed by the old timbers. The hum of the bees was in
the air, heavy with the fragrance of many flowers.

And Joan was thinking of a City office, of a man she hated and feared, a
man with bold eyes and thick, sensual lips. And then her thoughts
drifted away to another man, and she seemed to hear again the last word
he had spoken to her--"Ungenerous." And suddenly she shivered a little
in the warm sunlight.

"Joan, you are not cold. You can't be cold," Johnny said.

She laughed. "No, I was only thinking of the past. There is much in the
past to make one shiver, I think, and oh, Johnny, I was thinking of you
too!"

"Of me?"

She nodded. "Helen was telling me how keen and eager you were about your
farm, how difficult it was to get you to leave it for an hour." She
paused. "That--that was befor