It has been customary to surround aeronauts with a halo of heroism, and Harold Brookman's exploits were the talk of the world of flying. It happened, unfortunately, that Harold possessed that form of good looks that belongs to flying men, indicating firm resolve and determination. Further, chance willed it that he should be an American. Those who live under foreign flags are naturally attracted to their fellow-countrymen when they happen to meet. Hilda Muirhead was supremely happy in her love for Raife Remington, and he in turn, was satisfied in their mutual devotion. It was unfortunate, therefore, that Raife should have overheard Hilda's genuine and impulsive utterance as she and the injured man met for the first time on the terrace after his recovery from the accident. "Well now, sakes alive, it's good to hear your voice, Mr Brookman. I've been away from home so long, it seemed I was never going to hear a good American voice again." Raife, who came over on to the terrace at that moment, glared at Harold, and in response to Hilda's invitation: "Hullo, Raife, come and talk to us," he replied, rather gruffly, "I'm sorry, I'm busy just now. Besides, I haven't got a good American voice." The incident should have been quite unimportant, but nothing is unimportant where jealousy is concerned. Raife nursed his indignation, and, without announcing his intention, went to London that afternoon. Lady Remington, realising that it was natural that Hilda should be pleased to meet one of her countrymen, especially in such exceptional circumstances, urged Harold Brookman to prolong his stay. In spite of his daring aerial exploits, Harold was very human, and the prospect of enjoying the hospitality of this charming old lady, and the company of his attractive young countrywoman, was agreeable. So he stayed at Aldborough Park, and, when the slight repairs that were necessary had been effected to his aeroplane, he made some trial flights from the croft, which was admirably adapted for the purpose. It was natural that he should invite Hilda to accompany him on a flight, and she accepted the invitation with enthusiasm. The delights of aviation have been described, and their fascination for the more courageous type of woman is a matter of surprise to many, but it is easily understood by the psychologist. Many days passed, and the wayward Raife sulked at his club in London. Eventually he returned unannounced, as was his custom. He imagined that Harold Brookman had taken his departure. He chose to drive in a cab that attended at the station, and called on the old landlord, Twisegood, on his way home. The old man greeted him with his customary enthusiasm. The somewhat incongruous couple were really friends, in spite of the difference in their station in life. For a while, Raife's ill-humour subsided, and he greeted the landlord cheerily. "Well, Twisegood, how are you, and what's the news?"