Cornelia and Geoffrey Greville passed along the hall, with its great oak fireplace filled in with branches of spreading beech, its decorations of tapestry, of armour, of stags' heads, of cases of stuffed birds. The ceiling was beamed with oak, the floor was polished to a dangerous brightness, and covered in the centre by an ancient Persian rug. Cornelia had never seen such an interior except as it is imitated on the stage. Her own tessellated, be-fountained entrance hall in New York was as far removed from it on the one side, as on the other was the square of oil-cloth, decorated with a hat-stand and two mahogany chairs, which at The Nook was dignified by the same title. She admired, but admired with reservations. "Kinder mouldy!" summoned up the ultimate verdict. Geoffrey moved moodily towards the doorway. Though bitterly annoyed at his mother's interference, he was too much of a gentleman to wreak his vengeance on the innocent cause of his exile. As a mitigation of the penance, it occurred to him that he might occupy the time of absence by talking of Elma since he might not talk to her; but Providence was merciful, and came to his aid at the eleventh hour. The inner door opened, and Captain Guest appeared upon the threshold, cap in hand, evidently returning from a solitary ramble, and by no means overjoyed to have arrived at such an inopportune moment. He bowed, murmured some inarticulate greeting, and would have passed by had not Geoffrey eagerly blocked the way. For the moment the claims of friendship were non- existent; he did not care whether Guest were pleased or annoyed; he was simply a means of escape, to be seized on without compunction. "Halloa, here you are! Just the man I wanted," he cried genially. "You shall have the privilege of driving Miss Briskett home. I was going to take her myself, but I've got some rather--er--pressing business to attend to before dinner"--he chuckled mentally over the application of the words--"so I'll stand aside in your favour. We are not going to trust her out of our sight until she is delivered safely into her aunt's keeping. Awfully sorry, Miss Briskett, but we shall meet again! You'll come up to see Miss Ramsden, won't you? Do come! Come on Saturday--we could make up a game of tennis if she is fit enough by that time." He helped Cornelia to her seat courteously, yet with an underlying haste which could not be concealed. Captain Guest gave him one look--a murderous look--and murmured, "Delighted, I'm shaw!" in tones of ice. Cornelia felt "ugly," and looked delightful; head erect, lips pursed, eyes a-flash.