"What do you mean by that?" "Perhaps it's a riddle. You can think about it." "Ah--you--you make me want to shake you!" He gripped her shoulders and saw her firm lips loosened, a pale colour in her cheeks, but something in her look forced him to let her go. "I can't hurt you," he said. She smiled again, in a queer way, he thought, but she was always queer: she looked as if she knew a joke she would not tell him, and, in revenge, he had a quick impulse to remind her of his rights. "Next week," he said, and saw the pretty colour fading. No one could save the captive princess now. Sunday came and Rupert went; Monday came and Mildred Caniper spoke to Helen; Tuesday was Helen's birthday: she was twenty-one. No one could save her now. On Wednesday she was to meet George in the town. She had asked Lily to stay with Mildred Caniper. "I have some shopping to do," she said, and though her words were true, she frowned at them. Lily came, and her skirts were blown about as she ran up the track. "It's a bitter wind," she said. "We've had a bad winter, and we're going to have a wicked spring." "I think we are," Helen said as she fastened on her hat. "You'll be fighting the wind all the way into town. Need you go today?" "I'm afraid I must," Helen said gravely. "Well, perhaps the change will do you good," Lily said, and Helen smiled at her reflection in the mirror. "Don't hurry back." The smile stayed on Helen's lips, and it was frozen there when, having forced her way against a wind that had no pity and no scorn, she did her shopping methodically and met George Halkett at the appointed place. "You've come!" he said, and seized her hand. "You're late." "I had to do some shopping," she said, putting back a blown strand of hair. "You're tired. You should have let me drive you down." In the shadows of the doorway, his eyes were quick on every part of her. "I wish I'd made you. And you're late. Shall we--hadn't we better go upstairs?" "There's nothing to wait for, is there?" Their footsteps made a loud noise on the stairs, and in a few minutes Helen found herself on them again. George had her by the arm, but he loosed her when she put the ring into his hand. "Helen--" He checked himself, accepting her decree with a patience that made her sorry for him. "You're going to drive back with me?" His anxiety to please her controlled his eagerness: his wish to tend her was like a warm but stifling cloak, and she could not refuse him. "They'll think we've met by chance," he said. "Who will?" "Any one that sees us." "I'm not concerned with what people think." "That's all right then. Nor am I. Will you wait here or come with me to the stable?" "I'll wait," she said. People with blue faces and red-rimmed eyes went past her, and there was not one of them she did not envy, for of all the people in that town, she alone was waiting for George Halkett. He came too soon, and held out a helping hand which she disdained.