"Mother is out," she said. "I'm so awfully sorry, as I wanted to introduce you. She's gone over to Riverdene, and I, too, was just about to follow her. If you'd been five minutes later I should have left." "I'm lucky then to have just caught you," I remarked. "But if you're going to Riverdene, may I not accompany you?" "Most certainly," she answered. "Of course I shall be delighted," and the light in her clear blue eyes told me that she was not averse to my company. She ordered a glass of port for me, and then said, "It's a whole week since you've been down there. Mary has several times mentioned you, and wondered whether you'd grown sick of boating." "I've been rather busy," I said apologetically. "Busy with murders and all sorts of horribles, I suppose," she observed with a smile. "Yes," I answered, regarding her closely. "Of late there have been one or two sensational mysteries brought to light!" "Mysteries!" she exclaimed, starting slightly. "Oh, do tell me about them. I'm always interested in mysteries." "The facts are in the papers," I answered, disinclined to repeat stories which had already grown stale. "The mysteries to which I referred were very ordinary ones, containing no features of particular interest." "I'm always interested in those kind of things," she said. "You may think me awfully foolish, but I always read them. Mother grows so annoyed." "It's only natural!" I answered. "We who are engaged on newspapers, however, soon cease to be interested in the facts we print, but of course, if they didn't interest the public our papers wouldn't have any circulation." She glanced at me, and a vague thought possessed me, for the look in her eyes was one of suspicion. When she had drawn on her gloves we together went forth through the garden and down to the road. Suddenly it occurred to me that we might go by train to Shepperton, and thence take a boat and row up to Riverdene. This I suggested, and she gladly welcomed the proposal, declaring that it would be much more pleasant than driving along the dusty, shadowless road from Shepperton to Laleham. Half an hour later we were afloat at Shepperton, and although the afternoon sun was blazing hot, it was nevertheless delightful on the water. With her lilac sunshade open she lolled lazily in the stern, laughing and chatting as I pulled regularly against the stream. Her conversation was always charming, and her countenance, I thought, fresher and more beautiful at that hour than I had ever before seen. About her manner was an air of irresponsibility, and when she laughed it was so gay a laugh that one would not dream that she had a single care in all the world. She was dainty from the crown of her hat to the tip of her white _suede_ shoe, and as I sat in the boat before her, I felt constrained to take her in my arms and imprint a fervent kiss of love upon those sweet lips, arched and well-formed as a child's.