The girl recovered her presence of mind first. She touched Bernard’s hands for a moment, and then, releasing them, observed to Alice, with forced calmness, "This gentleman is an old acquaintance of mine from Yorkshire." "An acquaintance! Oh, Doris!" Bernard’s voice expressed his chagrin, nay, more, his consternation. He had found Doris at last. But she was changed: she was no longer his Doris. He had slipped out of her life, and she had adapted herself to the altered circumstances. Glancing at her quickly, sharply, he perceived that she looked well, and even happy. The unwonted exercise and the fresh air of Kew had done her good and brought a pretty colour into her cheeks. She was with her dear friend Alice, and the delightfulness of mutual sympathy and love had caused her eyes to sparkle and her step to regain its buoyancy. Besides, the meeting with her lover, calmly though she appeared to take it, had brought back a tide of young life in her veins and imparted to her a sweet womanliness. Altogether she looked quite unlike the drooping, heartbroken Doris whom Bernard had last seen, and whom he had been picturing to himself as unchanged. "Allow me to introduce you to my friend, Miss Sinclair," said Doris, disregarding his protest. "Mr. Cameron, Miss Sinclair," she said, adding, "Mr. Cameron comes from Yorkshire." Alice bowed and held out her hand, in her usual good-natured way. "We thought you were a poor, tired Londoner," she remarked with a smile, "and lo! you come from the North." "I live in Richmond now," Bernard remarked quietly. "I have a--position in a school there." "Indeed?" Alice was regarding him critically. He was a gentleman, handsome, too, and he looked good. But he was also rather shabby: there was no doubt about that; and she did not think Doris looked particularly pleased to see him. There was an expression of apprehension in her eyes which Alice had never seen there before. "Do you live here?" Bernard asked Doris. "No, no. We have only come over for the day." "Where are you living?" Doris made no reply. She stopped the answer Alice was about to make by a beseeching look. "We have not any time to spare for visitors," she said, rather lamely. "Will you allow me to walk with you a little way?" he asked. "Or perhaps," he hesitated, looking at Alice uneasily--"perhaps you will sit here with me a little while? There is--is--room for three on this seat." Alice good-naturedly came to his assistance. "Doris," she said, in her brisk, businesslike way, "sit down and have a chat with your friend while I go over there to the chrysanthemum house to look at the flowers. I do so love chrysanthemums." "And so do I," said Doris quickly. "I will come too." "Doris!" Bernard’s exclamation was pitiful. Alice felt for him, but concluding Doris did not wish to be left, she said briskly, "We will all go there. Come on."