And then Gentian came with flying steps into the drawing-room through the open French windows. She stopped short for an instant when she saw Mrs. Wharnecliffe, then she slipped into an easy chair with a little sigh. "It is very warm in the garden. We have seen your rock garden, Mrs. Wharnecliffe, and I believe Jim has gone to his room to pack up his things." "But he is staying with us another night, is he not?" "I don't think he will. Urgent business will summon him to town." There was a hint of laughter in Gentian's wonderful blue eyes. Mrs. Wharnecliffe wondered if she were heartless. But Jim was not easily crushed. He came down to dinner that night and talked politics hard with Mr. Wharnecliffe, showing himself a keen student of his country's constitution. He almost ignored Gentian, who was very quiet and pensive, and after dinner went off to the smoking-room with his host. Mrs. Wharnecliffe did not press for Gentian's confidence and the girl retired early to bed. Jim said nothing about leaving, but came into the drawing-room just as Mrs. Wharnecliffe was about to leave it. "May I speak to you?" he said very earnestly. "Come along and sit down," said Mrs. Wharnecliffe cheerfully; "Gentian has gone to bed. She was tired." "Oh, I would not have troubled her with my company to-night," he said a little bitterly. "I am afraid you young people have been rubbing each other up," said Mrs. Wharnecliffe. "Can I help towards smoothing matters out? First of all, I should like to know how things are between you." "We are virtually engaged," said Jim quickly. "At least, I thought we were. Gentian has never been practical about it, she always says we don't know each other well enough to be sure whether we shall suit each other. And I—I'm desperately in love with her. I've been so for five years. You don't know her as I do. She's the sweetest-natured girl in the world, but elusive, and she lives in a dream world of her own, and thinks every one a saint, and her moods are as many as the stars in the heavens. She's angry with me now, but in the morning she'll be sorry—she always is. I cannot stand her taking up this car business. Is she fit for it? Do you consider she is?" "Most certainly not, but though I don't know her as well as you, I know she must be persuaded and not driven, and I am going slowly. I don't think it will come to anything."