faced round, her combative instincts awake.

"What sort?"

"I'm sure you understand what I mean."

Doris seemed embarrassed, though a smile lingered round her lips, and her eyes had a sparkle in them.

"It's—not meant to be shown."

"If you will tell me what it is about, I can judge."

The girl stood, slender and upright, against a dark maroon curtain.

"He says I am not to tell anyone."

"Mr. Hamilton Stirling would certainly make an exception in my case. He would not wish you to hide anything from me."

"He says—nobody!"

"Then I think he is wrong. And I do not think you are bound to follow such an injunction."

Doris's head went up.

"He advises me to read some books on geology."

"That cannot be what he does not wish you to repeat."

"No."

"And at your age—"

"I'm nineteen."

"Doris, you force me to ask you a plain question. Has he made you an offer of marriage?"

"Mother!" The girl crimsoned, and threw out her hands with a movement as of indignant repudiation. "Of course not! Why should he? It is absurd to ask such a thing. But you always spoil everything for me— always!"

Mrs. Winton was vaguely conscious, as the Squire had been, of some new element. She failed to analyse it, and the line she took was unfortunate. A word of loving sympathy 

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