"Good-bye," said Di, cordially, gathering up her gloves and parasol. "Go to Overleigh and get strong. And--you will have so many other things to think of--try not to forget about asking us." "I will remember," said John, as if he would make a point of burdening his memory. He was holding aside the curtain for her to pass. "You see," said Di, looking back, "when we are on the move we can do things, but once we get back to London we cannot go north again till next year. We can't afford it." "I will be sure to remember," said John again. He was a little crestfallen, and yet relieved that she should think he might forget. He felt that he could trust his memory. She smiled gratefully and was gone. She had forgotten to shake hands with him. He knew she had not been aware of the omission. She had been thinking of something else at the moment. But it remained a grievous fact all the same. He walked back absently into the drawing-room and stopped opposite the tea-table. "Vinegar," he said to himself. "What can James have been about? I draw the line at vinegar at five o'clock tea. I hope she did not see it." He took out the glass stopper. Not vinegar. No. There is but one name for that familiar, that searching smell. "It's brandy," said John aloud, speaking to himself, while the past unrolled itself like a map before his eyes. "Yes, look at it. Would you like to smell it again? There is no need to be so surprised. You had some of it not ten minutes ago, you poor deluded, blinded, bandaged idiot." * * * * * "Whom do you think _I_ have seen?" said Di, as they drove away. Mrs. Courtenay made no attempt to guess, which was the more remarkable because, when Miss Fane had ordered a cup of tea for Di, James had volunteered the information that he had already taken tea to Mr. and Miss Tempest. "Whom but John himself," continued Di. "I thought he was still invisible." "I am sure he ought to be. I never saw any one look so ill. We had tea together. I really thought you were never going away at all, but I was glad you were such a long time, because it was so pleasant seeing him again. I like John; don't you? I have liked him from the first." "He is a sensible man, but I prefer people with easier manners myself." "He is more than sensible, I think." "We shall be too late for the pony races," said Mrs. Courtenay. "It is nearly six now, and I told Lord Hemsworth we would be at the entrance at half-past five." "He will survive it," said Di, archly. "And, granny, John is going to ask us to Overleigh. I told him I had never seen it." "Good gracious!" exclaimed Mrs. Courtenay, and there was no doubt about her interest this time. "You did not _suggest_ our going, did you?"