But she remained seated, mute, her gaze a sorrowful interrogation which at length he could not pretend to ignore: "Stephanie child, don't worry. I'm not worrying. I'm glad I told you.... Now just let me go on as I've always gone--" "How _can_ we?" "Easily. Shut your eyes, breathe deeply, lifting both arms and lowering them while counting ten in German--" "Sandy, don't be so foolish at--such a time." "Such a time? What time is it?" pretending to consult his watch with great anxiety. Then a quick smile of relief spread over his features: "It's all right, Stephanie; it's my hour to be foolish. If you'll place a lump of sugar on my nose, and say 'when,' I'll perform." There was no answering smile on her face. "It's curious," she said, "how a girl can make a muddle of life without even trying." "But just think what you might have done if you'd tried! You've much to be thankful for," he said gravely. She raised her eyes, considering him: "I wonder," she said, under her breath. "Sure thing, Stephanie. You might have done worse; you might have married me. Throw away those flowers--there's a good girl--and forget what they meant." Slowly, deliberately, blossom by blossom she drew them from her girdle and laid them on the moss beside her. "There's one left," he said cheerfully. "Raus mit it!" But she made no motion to detach it; appeared to be unconscious of it and of him as she turned her face and looked silently toward the place where Neville had disappeared. An hour or two later, when Gordon was ready to return to the house, he shouted for Neville. Cameron also lifted up his voice in a series of prolonged howls. But Neville was far beyond earshot, and still walking through woods and valleys and pleasant meadows in the general direction of the Estwich hills. Somewhere there amid that soft rolling expanse of green was the woman who would never marry him. And it was now, at last, he decided that he would never take her on any other terms even though they were her own terms; that he must give her up to chance again as innocent as chance had given her into his brief keeping. No, she would never accept his terms and face the world with him as his wife. And so he must give her up. For he believed that, in him, the instinct of moral law had been too carefully developed ever to be deliberately ignored; he still believed marriage to be not only a rational social procedure, not only a human compromise and a divine convention, but the only possible sanctuary where love might dwell, and remain, and permanently endure inviolate. CHAPTER XIV The Countess Hélène had taken her maid and gone to New York on business for a day or two, leaving Valerie to amuse herself until her return. Which was no hardship for Valerie. The only difficulty lay in there being too much to do.