"I must confess that you did, Miss Devereux. I thought that I was alone." I had drawn myself up to my full height, and was looking steadily at her, determined that neither by word nor look, would I yield to the charm of her altered manner. It was I now who was proud and cold; she who was eager and a little nervous. "I had a message to deliver to you, and I forgot it," she said, hurriedly. "I was to ask you to dine with us to-night." "Does Sir Francis particularly wish it?" I asked. "Because, if not, as I have had a long day, and am rather tired----" She interrupted me, speaking with a sudden hauteur, and with all the coldness of her former manner. "I don't know that he particularly wishes it, but he has brought Lord Annerley home with him to talk over the Oadby Common matter, so you had better come." Lord Annerley was the eldest son of a neighbouring landowner between whom and myself, as the agent of Sir Francis Devereux, there had arisen a friendly dispute as to the right of way over a certain common, and I knew at once that I must not miss the opportunity of meeting him. "Very good, Miss Devereux," I answered, "I will go home and change my things at once." "Without speaking to me?" I turned abruptly round. Lady Olive had come softly over the smooth turf, and was looking up into my face with a mischievous smile. "How cross you both look!" she exclaimed; "have you been quarrelling?" "Quarrelling! Scarcely," I answered, laughing lightly. "Miss Devereux and I have no subject in common which we should be likely to discuss, far less to quarrel about. Wherever did you get such beautiful chrysanthemums, Lady Olive?" She buried her piquant little face in the mass of white and bronze blooms, and then divided them. "From the south garden. Aren't they lovely! See, Mr. Arbuthnot, I want you to take half of them to your sister if you don't mind. I don't think you have any cut yet, and the colours of these are so exquisite. Which do you like the better, Maud, the white or the bronze?" "The white, of course," she answered, scarcely looking at them. "I don't care for the other colour at all." "And I prefer it," Lady Olive went on, filling my outstretched hands. "Mr. Arbuthnot, did I gather correctly from what you were saying when I came up that you dine with us to-night?" "I am to have that happiness, Lady Olive," I answered; "and, if I don't hurry off now, I'm afraid I shall be late." "Then don't stop another moment," she laughed. "But, Mr. Arbuthnot----" I halted resignedly and turned round. "Well?" "Oh, nothing, only Maud and I expect you to show us this evening whose taste you choose to follow." "In what respect?" I asked. "Why, chrysanthemums, of course! Maud has chosen white, I have chosen bronze. We shall both look out eagerly to see whose colours you wear in your buttonhole to-night, If you wear a white one, I sha'n't speak to you all the evening. Mind, I warn you."