The girl laid her hand upon his shoulder and looked at him pleadingly. "For my sake," she said, "choose to remain our friend, and let this be forgotten." "For your sake, I consent," he said. "But I give no promise that I will not at some future time reopen the subject." "You will do so," Mr. Sabin said, "exactly when you desire to close your acquaintance with us. For the rest, you have chosen wisely. Now I am going to take you home, Helène. Afterwards, if Lord Wolfenden will give me a match, I shall be delighted to have a round of golf with him." "I shall be very pleased," Wolfenden answered. "I will see you at the Pavilion in half an hour," Mr. Sabin said. "In the meantime, you will please excuse us. I have a few words to say to my niece." She held out both her hands, looking at him half kindly, half wistfully. "Goodbye," she said. "I am so sorry!" But he looked straight into her eyes, and he answered her bravely. He would not admit defeat. "I hope that you are not," he said. "I shall never regret it." CHAPTER XX FROM A DIM WORLD Wolfenden was in no particularly cheerful frame of mind when, a few moments after the half hour was up, Mr. Sabin appeared upon the pavilion tee, followed by a tall, dark young man carrying a bag of golf clubs. Mr. Sabin, on the other hand, was inclined to be sardonically cheerful. "Your handicap," he remarked, "is two. Mine is one. Suppose we play level. We ought to make a good match." Wolfenden looked at him in surprise. "Did you say one?" Mr. Sabin smiled. "Yes; they give me one at Pau and Cannes. My foot interferes very little with my walking upon turf. All the same, I expect you will find me an easy victim here. Shall I drive? Just here, Dumayne," he added, pointing to a convenient spot upon the tee with the head of his driver. "Not too much sand." "Where did you get your caddie?" Wolfenden asked. "He is not one of ours, is he?" Mr. Sabin shook his head. "I found him on some links in the South of France," he answered. "He is the only caddie I ever knew who could make a decent tee, so I take him about with me. He valets me as well. That will do nicely, Dumayne." Mr. Sabin's expression suddenly changed. His body, as though by instinct, fell into position. He scarcely altered his stand an inch from the position he had first taken up. Wolfenden, who had expected a half-swing, was amazed at the wonderfully lithe, graceful movement with which he stooped down and the club flew round his shoulder. Clean and true the ball flew off the tee in a perfectly direct line--a capital drive only a little short of the two hundred yards. Master and servant watched it critically. "A fairly well hit ball, I think, Dumayne," Mr. Sabin remarked. "You got it quite clean away, sir," the man answered. "It hasn't run very well though; you will find it a little near the far bunker for a comfortable second." "I shall carry it all right," Mr. Sabin said quietly.