"How, indeed?" thought Peckover. "Well, you see," he answered, "out there the girls aren't enough to go round. You're lucky if you see one in a month, and somehow, when you do see her you don't care to lose sight of her. Where there's only one, that one's the best. Over here Lalage suffers by comparison." "You bet she does," assented Sharnbrook with more warmth than gallantry. "Out there," Peckover declared, "she was unique." "So she is here," said Sharnbrook with conviction. "Well, if you are going to square matters with her otherwise than on a matrimonial basis, you might call the fisher-girls off me again before I'm quite landed." "All right," assented Peckover who had now quite recovered his spirits. "I'll do anything to oblige, especially when there's a little fun attached to the job." At that moment Miss Ethel's voice was heard singing in the corridor leading to the picture gallery. "She's coming after me," Sharnbrook exclaimed in an agitated whisper. "Slip out," said Peckover, "and leave me to do my best for you." Sharnbrook gave him a nod of gratitude and ran off by the opposite door, just as Miss Ethel, keen on the scent, looked in. "Do come in, Miss Ethel," Peckover besought her, with an earnestness not to be ignored. "I was looking for Mr. Sharnbrook," she replied coldly. "He has just gone out that way," said Peckover indicating the other door. "Did he see Dagmar?" Miss Ethel inquired jealously, crossing the room with determined steps. Peckover sprang to intercept her. "Don't run away from me, Miss Ethel. I know you must be annoyed by those vulgar people who intruded here just now----" "I should think so," said Ethel haughtily, trying to pass. "But," urged Peckover, "you won't be troubled by them again. I'm paying their fares back to Australia; so that will settle them--out there." Ethel suddenly appeared to be somewhat less desirous of reaching the door. "Oh?" she said slowly. "And are you going with them?" "Not if I know it. Old England's the place for my money." "Not going to marry the--the lady?" she asked breathlessly. "Do I look like it?" he replied insinuatingly. "Now, don't trouble about them, or about that silly old Sharnbrook, who prefers to go off and buy his fifty-ninth fox-terrier to waiting for you. Let's sit down and have a nice cosy chat." The invitation was, under the circumstances, hardly to be resisted, whatever short work the young lady might, under others, have made of it. As they took their seats side by side, Peckover stretched out his arm behind the lady to arrange a cushion for her--and let it stay there. For as many seconds as probability allowed Ethel affected to be unaware of the caressing attitude. Then suddenly she seemed to wake up to the fact that her companion's arm was round her shoulders, upon which she leant forward to allow him to withdraw it. But Peckover was not keen on taking hints when they ran counter to his amusements. "Isn't it comfortable?" he asked.