As we were going home Von Marlo asked if he might walk with me. Mrs Grant was standing near; she said "Certainly," and we started off together. "Not that way," he said; "I don't want to go straight back. We have nearly two hours before dinner, and I want you to take me a very long way round." "But I don't know Chelmsford specially well," I replied. "Oh, I've been poking about a bit by myself," he answered. "We'll just walk up this road to the left, then plunge into the woods; they look so perfect with the snow on the ground." I took his hand, and we walked along bravely. I was warmed with the skating; my cheeks were cold; my heart was beating heartily; I felt a curious exhilaration which snowy air and even most badly executed skating gives to every one. When we entered the woods Von Marlo slackened his steps and looked full at me. "You are as happy as the day is long," he said. I made no reply. "If you are not you ought to be so," was his next remark. I turned then and stood quite still and faced him. "You make too much fuss," I said. "If you and Alex and Charley would leave the subject alone I might get on better with her. But you never will leave the subject alone. When I speak to her you all three look at me." "I didn't know that the others looked; I couldn't help it, you know," said Von Marlo. "But why should you do it? After all, you know much less than the others do." "That doesn't matter." Von Marlo held out his hand and took mine. "I want to say something to you, Dumps. You are quite the nicest and pluckiest girl I have ever come across. I know lots of girls at The Hague, and they are pretty in their way; but I never saw anybody quite so pretty as you are." "Oh Von!" I said, and I burst out laughing. "I do wish you wouldn't talk rubbish like that. Why, you know that I am very--very--downright ugly." "I know nothing of the sort," he replied. "To me, a face like yours, so round, and eyes so grey, and--well, I think you are beautiful." I saw at last that he was speaking the truth. Perhaps I was the Dutch style. I knew I should never certainly be the English style. After a moment his words were soothing. It was well if even a Dutchman could think me nice. "And you are so brave," he continued. "Looks don't matter very much, of course. They do a little, but you are so plucky, and you have always been so good at home, although now you are just having a rare chance of turning yourself into--" "Well?" I said, for he stopped. "Into a vixen." "Oh dear!" I cried. "Yes; you know you are not what you used to be, and it is because of the best woman in the world. So I do want you to try--" "Stop!" I said. "I won't do what you want, so now let us change the subject." The colour came into his face. "Perhaps," he said, "the best thing I can do is to tell you about my own step-mother." "Have you one?" I asked.