"I picked it up," said Churchill, "as we returned from the shooting-party the other day, and intended restoring it sooner, but forgot it. I am glad to be able to do so now." He handed her the glove, looked her straight in the face, and walked on silently by her side. "We have had a new arrival here since you left," said Barbara, after a pause, swinging the glove slowly to and fro; "a Mr. Beresford. You know him?" "Beresford? Oh, of the Tin-Tax Office! I have met him." "You are on intimate terms?" "I--I have not that honour. Mr. Beresford moves in a different set to mine." "That question of 'sets' seems to be one of paramount importance with you, Mr. Churchill. How frequently you harp upon it!" "It is a question which we must necessarily bear in mind, Miss Lexden," said Churchill, with emphasis; then smiling, added,--"_Suum cuique_, which is Latin, and unintelligible; 'the cobbler and his last,' which is English and vernacular. But why did you ask?" "Simply because he seems amusing, and likely to be popular here. I am sorry we shall not have the opportunity of profiting by his high spirits, as aunt and I will probably be leaving on Thursday." One quick glance told her that this shot, if intended for mischief, had signally failed. With perfect calmness Churchill replied, "And I also must manage to survive the loss of Mr. Beresford's conversation, as I go to-morrow." "To-morrow!" exclaimed Barbara; then, in her ordinary tone, "Ah, to be sure, you have of course so much to do." "Well," said Churchill, smiling, "for a month I hope to do little beyond mooning on the beach and throwing pebbles into the sea." "Yes," said Barbara quickly; "that is, I believe, the usual thing under the circumstances. And the place? the Isle of Wight, or Devonshire, of course?" "Under the circumstances!" he echoed. "I beg your pardon, Miss Lexden, but I fear we are at cross purposes. Under what circumstances?" ("He braves it out to the last," thought Barbara; "who would have thought that he could have stooped to a shuffle, or degrade the woman he was engaged to, by tacitly ignoring the fact?") Then she said, curling her lip, and tossing the glove with a lightly contemptuous gesture, "Good news travels fast, Mr. Churchill. The fact of your forthcoming marriage is known at Bissett." "_My_ forthcoming marriage? It's a joke, Miss Lexden?" "We have heard it as a fact." "And _you_ believed it?" said Churchill, turning white, while his lip trembled visibly as he spoke. "Why should I not?" After a pause, and in a low voice, "Then you are not going to be married?" "Married, no! Miss Lexden, you must now listen patiently to what I should otherwise have kept secret, knowing the folly I have been guilty of. If ever I marry, Barbara Lexden will be my wife!" She started, and seemed about to speak.