Very gently he took the little pram from her, for he saw that her hands were trembling: "You've had a fright," he said. "I know what it is. I had a favourite dog run over once. It's horrible, it takes months to get over it. I can't think why dogs are so stupid about motors ... must have been a near shave that ... very decent of Brooke--he's taken pounds off his car with that wrench." While Miles talked he didn't look at Meg. "I say, little Fay," he suddenly suggested, "wouldn't you like to walk a bit?" and he lifted her out. "There, that's better. Now, Miss Morton, you sit down a minute; you've had a shake, you know. I'll go on with the kiddies." Meg was feeling a horrible, humiliating desire to cry. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears, her knees refused to bear her. Thankfully she sat down on the foot-board of Fay's little pram. The tall figure between the two little ones suddenly grew blurred and dim. Furtively she blew her nose and wiped her eyes. They were not a stone's throw from the lodge at Wren's End. How absurd to be sitting there! And yet she didn't feel inclined to move just yet. "'Ere, my dear, you take a sip o' water; the gentleman's told me all about it. Them sort o' shocks fair turns one over." And kind Mrs. Earley was beside her, holding out a thick tumbler. Meg drank the deliciously cold water and arose refreshed. And somehow the homely comfort of Mrs. Earley's presence made her realise wherein lay the essential difference between these two men. "He still treats me like a princess," she thought, "even though he thinks ... Oh, what _can_ he think?" and Meg gave a little sob. "There, there!" said Mrs. Earley, "don't you take on no more, Miss. The dear dog bain't 'urted not a 'air of him. 'E cum frolicking in that friendly--I sometimes wonders if there do be anyone as William 'ud ever bite. 'E ain't much of a watchdog, I fear." "He nearly bit someone this afternoon," Meg said. "Well, I'm not sorry to yer it. It don't do for man nor beast to be too trustful--not in this world it don't." At the drive gate Miles was standing. Mrs. Earley took the pram with her for Earley to clean, and Meg and Miles walked on together. "I'm sorry you've had this upset," he said. "I've talked to William like a father." "It wasn't only William," Meg murmured. They were close to the house, and she stopped. "Good night, Captain Middleton. I must go and put my children to bed; we're late." "I don't want to seem interfering, Miss Morton, but don't you let anyone bully you into picking up an acquaintance you'd rather drop." "I suppose," said Meg, "one always has to pay for the things one has done." "Well, yes, sooner or later; but it's silly to pay Jew prices." "Ah," said Meg, "you've never been poor enough to go to the Jews, so you can't tell." * * * * *