He was vehement. “But you do know. You know it very well.” She had no answer; but she smiled to herself; and I have no doubt she knew. For two minutes or more there was silence, a time of suspense. Then Miss Percival said, “I've had a telegram. Mr. Ingram is coming to-morrow.” To this he said nothing. She went on. “He is bringing people with him. Mrs. Benson was very funny about it. He is coming at seven with some people, and she would read it that he was coming with seven people. When I asked her, how could we meet him if he had not told us the time? she made a grievance of it, and said that was so like him. So it is, of course.” Struan remained speechless, and had turned away his face. Miss Percival continued her reflections aloud. “How long has he been away? More than a year. He wrote once from Singapore--then from Rawal-pindi--and that was all, until I got this telegram. He's very casual, I must say.” Here she paused. Struan said suddenly, “Miss Percival, I'm going.” She turned with interest, and asked, with not too much interest, “Oh! Why?” He said, “You know why.” She lowered her voice by a tone, but no more. “I hope you won't. It would be a pity. There's no real reason for it. I'll speak to Menzies to-morrow. He doesn't mean any harm to you. He's only old and grumpy.” “He's a fool,” said Struan. “Certainly, he's a fool. But that's neither here nor there.” Miss Percival, ignoring what she chose to ignore, said again, “I hope you won't go.” The young man shifted his ground, and dug his heel into the turf. “I must--indeed, I must.” “Where shall you go?” “God knows.” “Why must you go?” “You know why.” “Is it because of Menzies?” He threw his head up. “Menzies, forsooth!” He scorned Menzies. “Then I don't see why you should go. I shouldn't like it. I hope you will stay.” He looked at her now across the dusk, intensely. “You hope I will stay?” “Yes, certainly I do.” “You hope I will stay? You ask me to stay?” She considered. Then she said, “Yes, I think so. Yes, I do.” “Then,” said Struan, “God help us all. I stay.” Miss Percival said cheerfully, “I'm so glad. I'll speak to Menzies to-morrow, and get him to leave you alone. He knows how well you do the melons, but of course he would never admit it.” She broke off the interview shortly afterwards. “I'm going to bed,” she told him. “I've got lots to do to-morrow. Heaps of things. You must get me some of your flowers for the rooms.” He was not appeased, “Menzies will do it,” he said. She laughed. “You know what Menzies will say--'Pelargoniums for the hall, Miss Percival, and some nice maidenhair.' He's not inventive, poor Menzies.” “He's an old fool,” said Struan. “He takes flowers for spangles in a circus.” Miss Percival again laughed softly, and held out her hand. “Good-night,” she said. “I'm going.” He touched her hand, and then put his own behind his back. “Aren't you going to bed?” she asked him.