They were walking very, very slowly. Oliver had now turned on his electric torch, and it threw a bright patch of light on the path immediately before them, making all the darkness about them the blacker and the more intense.

In a hard voice he exclaimed: "Of course Gillie must come here, and stay here! His being anywhere else would be preposterous----" And then, once more, he fell into that strange, disconcerting silence.

The last time they two had walked down under the beeches at night had been some three weeks ago. Laura and Godfrey had dined with the Tropenells, and then Godfrey had said that he had to go home and do some work, leaving her to stay on, for nearly an hour, with the mother and son.

Oliver's torch had gone out that evening, and he had suggested, a little diffidently, that Laura should take his arm; smiling, she had laid the tips of her fingers lightly on his sleeve. She had felt so happy then, so happy, and absolutely at her ease, with her companion....

Tears welled up in her eyes. She was grateful for the darkness, but her trembling voice betrayed her as she exclaimed, "Oliver? I do again ask you to forget what happened yesterday, and to forgive me for the things I said. I'm very sorry that I spoke as I did."

He stopped walking, and put out his torch. "Don't be sorry," he said, in a low, constrained voice. "It's far better that I should know exactly how you feel. Of course I was surprised, for I'd always had a notion that women regarded love from a more ideal standpoint than men seem able to do. But I see now that I was mistaken." Some of the bitterness with which his heart was still full and overflowing crept into his measured voice. "I think you will believe me when I say that I did not mean to insult you----"

He was going on, but she interrupted him.

"--I'm sorry--sorry and ashamed too, Oliver, of what I said. Please--please forget what happened----"

He turned on her amid the dark shadows.

"If _I_ forget, will _you_?" he asked sombrely.

And she answered, "Yes, yes--indeed I will! But before we put what happened yesterday behind us forever, do let me tell you, Oliver, that I _am_ grateful, deeply grateful, for your----" she hesitated painfully, and then murmured "your affection."

But Oliver Tropenell did not meet her half-way, as she had perhaps 

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