Wynyard had written to his sister to inform her that, owing to the breakdown of the dilapidated old car, he was once more out of a job, and found, in reply, that she was on the eve of sailing for America. He went round to see her in Mount Street, two days before she started. “You are looking remarkably fit, Owen,” she said, “and the Parretts can’t say too much for you; indeed, in Susan’s letter I observe a tone of actual distress! Six months of the time have passed. I suppose you have saved a little money?” “I have twenty pounds in the bank, and a couple of sovereigns to go on with. Of course I must look out for another billet at once.” “And on this occasion you will take with you a really well-earned character. You have no debts and no matrimonial entanglements--eh? What about Miss Morven?” “I’ve never laid eyes on her since I saw you.” “How is that?” “She’s been in London.” “And now _you_ are here--ah!” “I didn’t follow her, as you seem to suppose. I wasn’t likely to get another billet in Ottinge, and anyway, I was a bit tired of having Miss Parrett’s heel on my neck.” “Tired of ‘ordering yourself humbly and lowly to all your betters,’ poor boy! But to return to the young lady; are you still thinking of her?” Was he not always thinking of her? But he merely nodded. “You haven’t written?” “No; I’m not such a sweep as all that!” “But, Owen, didn’t you wring a sort of half promise from the unfortunate girl? I know it was only ‘perhaps,’ but _château qui parle--femme qui écoute_.” “I think it will be all right.” “And that her ‘perhaps’ is as good as another’s solemn vow! I must say you show extraordinary confidence in yourself and in her, and yet you scarcely know one another.” “No, not in the usual dancing, dining-out, race-going style; I give in to that, or, indeed, in the ordinary way at all. She only saw me driving or washing the motor, or doing a bit of gardening.” “And you think you were so admirable in these occupations that you captured her heart! Owen, I’m seeing you in quite a new light, and I think you are deceiving yourself. I expect the young woman has forgotten you by this time. London has--attractions.” “Time will tell; anyhow, she’s refused the great Bertie Woolcock.” “No!” incredulously, “who told you? When did you hear it?” “It was all over Ottinge a week ago, and I heard it at the Drum. I was also given to understand that Miss Parrett was fit to be tied!”