It was, however, unfortunate that Miss Ethel had to leave her lover and her sister together. Peckover, baulked of a kiss in one direction, was by no means above trying for one in another; and, while Ethel was getting off with the old love, thought he might as well utilize the opportunity in getting on with the new. And Miss Dagmar, save in the matter of temper, was quite as interesting an object for his attentions as her sister. What was considerably more to the point, her manner suggested that she was even more susceptible to his fascinations than Ethel. "Well," he observed with a leer, "while they are settling their differences we've got to amuse ourselves, eh?" A wild desire to cut her sister out on the spot took possession of Miss Dagmar. Lord Quorn was for the time out of the question, and even if he were available, she was certain that she would give herself a far better time by marrying the richer man. "How shall we do that, Mr. Gage?" she asked, with an archly provocative glance at him. "Well," responded Peckover, by no means at a loss, "suppose we try how much we can get to like one another in ten minutes." "I'm afraid----" she began, when suddenly she became aware that his arm was round her waist. "Don't be afraid, Dagmar," he entreated. "I am," she returned, releasing herself. "I'm afraid you are a deceiver." "Oh, no," he protested, far from displeased, however, at the accusation. "You have just been making love to Ethel." "Nothing to speak of," he assured her lightly. "You see," he added, more amorously, "I did not know you cared for me." "Oh, Mr. Gage!" "I didn't," he maintained, wilfully misunderstanding her protest. "I dare say I ought to have, but I didn't." "And now"--she laughed meaningly--"you think you have discovered my secret?" The last word nearly brought a whistle to Peckover's lips, but he suppressed it in time. "Yes," he urged, "if I am right, if I have discovered it----" he paused to get a look at her face, and something more. "Yes?" she murmured. "Let's make the most of it," he suggested. "Give me a kiss." "Oh, no, it wouldn't be proper," she objected, holding back. "Quite proper," he assured her. "There's nobody looking." "I don't quite see," said Dagmar thoughtfully, "how the fact that nobody is looking makes it proper." "Well," argued Peckover, "if nobody is looking I don't see how it matters whether it is proper or not." "But it does," she maintained, holding off. "So long as it's agreeable to both parties," he urged; "we've no one to please but ourselves. Of course," he added airily, "if you've any rooted objection to kissing----" "It is," said Dagmar hastily, "a question of what is right and what is wrong." Peckover began to think this was dry work. "You think kissing wrong, then?" he suggested. "Unjustifiable kissing," Dagmar declared. "Unjustifiable?" Peckover repeated, with the suspicion of a yawn. "Seems to me if both parties don't object the act is justified."