For the rest of the way to the house Mrs Alliot talked on impersonal subjects, and Miles answered with colourless politeness; then, at last, across a wide green lawn, a sun shelter came into view, in which Betty could be discerned, and someone else in a white dress lying on a couch banked up with blue cushions. "There are the girls! Don't wait for me! Go across the lawn," said Mrs Alliot kindly. When one has dealt the one great blow, it is easy enough to make trifling concessions, reflected Miles bitterly, as he strode forward; but the next moment all bitterness died away as he grasped a thin white hand, and looked down into a face which was at once strange, and exquisitely familiar. Cynthia, but Cynthia as a woman, no longer a schoolgirl; Cynthia with her golden mane wound smoothly round her head, with blue shadows under the sweet eyes, and hollows where the dimples used to dip in the rounded cheeks. At the first glance the air of delicacy was painfully pronounced, but as she smiled and flushed, the old merry Cynthia looked at him once more. "Miles! Is it really you? I can hardly believe it! Such a great, big man! Oh, but I'm glad! I'm glad to see you again! Sit down, sit down. Let me see you properly. I mayn't get up from this horrid couch. Yes, it's you! I'd know your eyes anywhere, and the moustache is nice--a very fine moustache, Miles! I'm glad the beard is off. I like your square chin. It is lovely to have you all here, and to know you have not to run away in a few hours. I'm looking forward immensely to the next week. Old Miles! It _is_ good to see you!" She laughed and coughed, and lent back against the cushions, pushing them into place with an impatient hand; while Miles stared at her in an intent silence which printed every detail so deeply in his memory that no passage of time could wear them away. The loose ends of hair which escaped from the coils and curled on her white neck, the long transparent hands against the blue cushions, the slight figure in the white dress--how often that vision arose before him in the years to come! As of old, Cynthia's friendliness showed no hint of embarrassment, and she chatted away as easily as if the separation had lasted for weeks instead of years. Betty had tactfully rejoined Mrs Alliot, and for the next half-hour Miles was allowed an uninterrupted _tete-a-tete_. "Tell me all about everything!" cried Cynthia, just as years before she had demanded an account of Miles' engineering studies; and when he protested, "Oh, it's quite easy," she maintained, "Tell me the history of a day. You wake in the morning, and get up, and then--what next? Go through the whole programme until it is time to go to bed again." Then Miles spoke, and she listened eagerly, the flush dying out of her cheeks and a wistful expression deepening in her eyes.