"No, I have been over the hill to one of my tenant farmers. Has she been in these parts to-day?" "Oh yes, indeed she has." Gentian leant against a gate in the hedge, and looked up at Thorold with a reflective light in her blue eyes. "I'm considering," she said, with a mischievous curl to her lips, "whether I shall keep back part of the truth from you. I think I will. You are not my Father Confessor. I am thinking of being a kind of private chauffeur to an invalid lady, a friend of Mrs. Wharnecliffe." "Capital!" "If she makes it worth my while, it will be less fatiguing than ordinary hire work." Thorold's face, like Mrs. Wharnecliffe's, showed relief and satisfaction. Gentian frowned. "So now when you pass me in the road, you needn't screw up your eyes to see whom I'm driving, and you needn't have your motor-cycle at hand ready to dash out and meet me if I am rather late in getting home. In fact you will be able to dismiss me entirely from your thoughts and observation. And forget that I exist." "I wonder if I shall," said Thorold in rather a drawling voice. "I shall be too busy to give you a thought," said Gentian with a little snap in her tone. And then Thorold laughed. "I was just going to ask you to come to a tea-party at my house the day after to-morrow. I have some farmers' wives coming—six of them—we're going to talk over the dairy stall at the flower-show in Winderball next month, and I want some one to pour out tea for them. I thought perhaps Miss Ward would come too—" In a moment Gentian's face cleared. "I shall love to come," she said enthusiastically; "I adore pouring out tea! And farmers' wives are great fun, I'm sure!" "They will be very serious, for it's a committee meeting, and if you've had no experience of them, you will be astonished at the gravity of the situation." "Oh, I won't let them be grave. I can always make people laugh if I want to. It's a pity you're so grave, Cousin Thorold. Perhaps when you realize that the burden and cares of my livelihood are no more necessary, you will take a brighter view of things." "It's a wonderful thing—the different point of view that people take. Now Mrs. Wharnecliffe always complains that I am frivolous!" "Oh, I know what she means. You never seem in earnest, or care about anything very much. That's why you annoy me so. You always seem laughing at me up your sleeve!" "Then I do know how to laugh sometimes?" Gentian made an impatient movement, as if she were about to walk on, then she turned towards him again. "You're a solid bit of rock, and I'm just a bubble! That's what I feel when I talk to you. And I feel more bubbly than ever now that I have a fresh start in front of me. Ah! I forgot! I can make no engagement for the day after to-morrow. My old lady may want me—" "She'll be enjoying tea under her mulberry tree at the time I want you—"