The gate into the gardens must have been hurrying towards them, it was reached so soon. Wentworth, after a momentary surprise at beholding it, stopped the cob, and helped Fay with extreme care to the ground. One of Fay's attractions was her appearance of great fragility. Men felt instinctively that with the least careless usage she might break in two. She must be protected, cheered, have everything made smooth for her. She was in reality much stronger than many of her taller, more robust-looking sisters, who, whether wives or spinsters, if they required assistance, had to look for it in quinine. An uneasy jealousy of Fay led Lady Blore frequently to point out that Fay was always well enough to do what she wanted. Aunt Mary's own Roman nose and stalwart figure warded off from her the sympathy to which her severe cramps undoubtedly entitled her. "When shall I see you again?" said Wentworth, suddenly realising that the good hour was over. Fay did not answer. She was confused. A very delicate colour flew to her cheek. Wentworth, reddening under his tan, said: "Perhaps Pilgrim Road is a favourite walk of yours?" "Yes. I often go there in the afternoon." "I have to pass that way, too, most days," he said. "It is a short cut to Lostford." He had forgotten that an hour before he had announced that he seldom used that particular path. It did not matter, for Fay had not noticed the contradiction any more than he did. Fay was easy to get on with because she never compared what anyone said one day with what they said the next. She never would feel the doubts, the perplexities that keener minds had had to fight against in dealing with him. For the first time she looked at his receding figure with a sense of regret and loss. Magdalen was in the house waiting to give her her tea, dear Magdalen who was so good, and so safe, such a comforter--_but who knew_. Fay shrank back instinctively as she neared the house, and then crept upstairs to her own room, and had tea there. * * * * * [Illustration: "FAY NOTICED FOR THE FIRST TIME HOW LIGHTLY WENTWORTH WALKED, HOW SQUARE HIS SHOULDERS WERE"]