"Do you think so?" They were standing under the shadow of a tree. He leaned back against the tree. "By the way, I have been remiss. I ought to have inquired after your mother." "My mother?" She started. "I see your names are bracketed in the visitors' book together." "Our names bracketed in the visitors book together! You are dreaming!" "I saw them there--Mrs. and Miss Danvers." "Mrs. and Miss Danvers! Cecil! what do you mean?" It was his turn to stare. Her manner had all at once become quite singular. "What do _you_ mean? Isn't your mother with you?" "Cecil, are you making fun of me?" Hubert felt that, in some way, he was putting his foot in it--though he did not quite see how. "Nothing is further from my thoughts than to make fun of you. But when I saw Mrs. Danvers' name in the visitors' book----" "Whose name?" "When I saw Mrs. and Miss Danvers there as large as life----" The lady moved a step away from him. All at once she became, as it were, a different woman entirely. "I see that you are the same man after all. The same Mr. Cecil Buxton. The same cold, calculating, sneering cynic. Only you happen to have broken out in another place. I presume you have been having a little amusement at my expense on a novel plan of your own. But this time, my friend, you have gone too far. You have asked me, in so many words, to be your wife--I dare you to deny it! You have borrowed money--I dare you to deny that too! I am not so unprotected as you may possibly imagine. I took the precaution to wire this morning for a friend. You will marry me, or we shall see!" The lady swept him a splendid curtsey, and--walked off. He was so taken aback by the sudden change in her deportment that he made not the slightest attempt to arrest her progress. He stared after her, in the moonlight, open-eyed and open-mouthed. "Well----! I've done something, though I don't know what. And I've done it somehow, though I don't know how. Cecil ought to be grateful to me for ridding him of her. They'd never have been happy together, I'll stake my life on it. Hallo! Who's this? More adventures!" There was a rustling behind him. He turned. Someone came out of the shadow of the tree. It was a young girl. She was clad in a plain black silk dinner dress. A shawl was thrown over her shoulders. He could see that she had brown hair and pleasant features. She addressed to him a question which surprised him. "Who is that woman?" she asked. She pointed after the rapidly retreating "Angel" with a gesture which was almost tragic. He raised his hat. "I beg your pardon? I don't think I have the pleasure----" She paid no attention to his words. "Who is that woman?" she repeated. "Which woman?" "That woman?" "Really I--I think there's some mistake----" To his amazement she burst into a passion of tears. "Cecil, don't speak to me like that--don't! don't! don't!" Hubert stared. The young lady dropped her hands from before her face. She looked at him with streaming eyes.