‘You ought not to think of it at all. Artist people are called by the first name that comes to hand.’ ‘Mrs. Thorne is not an artist.’ ‘She remembers me, in the old days when I knew Camors, as a budding one.’ ‘And she corrects herself with over-care. Having once said “Gaston,” it would be better not to go back to “Mr. Arbuthnot.”’ ‘Ah, there, my dear girl, you are too strong. If Linda Thorne excuses she accuses herself, although I must confess I don’t see the heinousness of her crime. You are becoming a casuist, Dinah.’ ‘Am I? It seems to me that I am remaining what I always was.’ They walked on, after this, mutually taciturn. The interest seemed to have gone from their talk. At last, just as they neared the first lights of Luc village, Dinah’s fingers closed with significant tightness on her husband’s arm. ‘I have an important word to say to you, Gaston. All through our walk I have been wishing to bring it out, but I had not the courage.’ ‘Some one else calls me by my Christian name, perhaps? Or are we only to discuss more enormities of Linda Thorne’s?’ There was a threat of impatience in Gaston Arbuthnot’s voice. This little running accompaniment of domesticity gave a quite new character, he decided, to picnics, viewed as a means of social pleasure. ‘I was not thinking of Linda Thorne. I wanted to ask--Gaston, forgive me--if you would keep nearer to me till we get back to Guernsey?’ ‘_Nearer!_ Will not everybody be near everybody else on board the steamer? Don’t, I beg, ask me to do anything absurd,’ he added, with emphasis. ‘You have no idea how ready one’s best friends are to laugh at one under given circumstances.’ ‘But if you were just to stop at my side on board--I mean, so that no one else could come near me.’ ‘I will do nothing of the kind. You have no perception of the ridiculous, Dinah. It is a want in your nature. A woman with the slightest sense of humour would never wish her husband to be demonstrative before an audience.’ ‘Demonstrative?’ ‘Jealous might be nearer the mark. A variety of reasons could be given as to the miserable wretch’s motives in such a position. Jealous--of little Rex Basire, probably!’ Gaston Arbuthnot laughed. This time his laughter had no very hearty sound. ‘You must learn to be self-reliant,’ he went on presently. ‘Your first lesson in worldliness was to be taken to-day, remember. Well, you must go through with it! I was not especially anxious for you to join the party.’ ‘You were not. I came to please myself only.’ ‘And you have pleased yourself and me. You are the most charming woman present; and let me tell you these handsome Guernsey girls are formidable rivals. I am proud of you. The opening page of the lesson is a success. Don’t spoil it, Dinah, by picking a childish quarrel with me now.’ ‘I am proud of you!’ The unexpected praise sent a thrill through Dinah’s heart.