To his own amazement there was a touch of genuine anxiety in Guest's voice. It seemed to matter a great deal whether this girl of the ruddy locks and curling lips accepted his friendship, or deliberately put it aside; to matter none the less that she had jarred upon a dozen prejudices during the course of the last half hour! He knew the tension of suspense before he met her radiant, answering smile. "Oh, my, no, we're friends right enough! If you haven't to live with people all the time, it's easy enough to avoid the rubs. I guess we can agree to differ for the few times we're likely to meet." ... She buried her face in her hand, to suppress a yawn. "Those steps have just about finished me! I'm all used up. Don't you want to give me some tea? I noticed one of those Fuller stores in the Strand as we came along. Let's go right back and have a rest!" Guest led the way downwards, feeling but indifferently consoled. An uncomfortable depression weighed on him as he walked through the streets, and sat with Cornelia in a corner of the tea-shop. It was the first meal of which he had partaken in her company, and it gave a feeling of intimacy to face each other across the daintily-spread table, to watch her pour out tea with the pretty white hands on which the diamond solitaire twinkled meaningly. She seemed really tired, and for once was content to be silent while she drank boiling tea and munched rich cakes, with supreme disregard of digestion. As for Guest, two phrases rang in his ears, to the exclusion of other thoughts--"The few times we are likely to meet"--"We might be a honeymoon couple..." Two suggestions, far apart as the poles, yet each bringing within it a thrill of something like fear. He did not wish to find himself in the position of bridegroom to this Yankee stranger; the thought was absurd, nevertheless it was distinctly unpleasant to picture anyone else occupying the position! It was worse than unpleasant, it was actually painful to think that the newly-formed friendship might be interrupted by a separation of three thousand miles! He sat, staring at his companion with the intensity which accompanies a preoccupied mind, until presently Cornelia began to arch her eyebrows, purse up her lips, and crane her head from side to side. "I beg your pardon! If I was to get up and stand on that bench, do you think it would aid your scrutiny? What's the verdict, please? It's the least you can do to tell me, after quizzing all this time! ... What do you think of my looks? Honestly, mind, without any bunkum! I'm crazy to know." "I think--sometimes--you are beautiful!" "Seriously? You mean it?" "I do!"