He was silent a moment, watching her and crushing the heather in his strong fingers. Then, very gently, he laid a hand on her knee. ‘What is it? Tell me. I _must_ know.’ At that she dropped her hands. By chance or design, one of them fell on his own and rested there. The light contact sent electric thrills up his arm. ‘That’s just it,’ she said with her slow smile. ‘You must know. But we neither of us do—yet. It’s been a wonderful fortnight. And if I haven’t travelled quite so fast or so far as you, that doesn’t mean⸺’ ‘Of course it doesn’t. I’m not such a conceited ass as to suppose you could fall in love with me at sight. But now I’ve spoken—isn’t there any response?’ ‘Haven’t you felt any?’ she asked lightly, and the hand that rested on his moved in a just perceptible caress. ‘For God’s sake don’t play with me!’ he broke out, half angry again. ‘I’m in deadly earnest.’ ‘I know. That’s just why one of us must try to keep a cool head.’ ‘Nonsense! You’re simply fencing. And you haven’t answered my question.’ ‘I’m trying to. But I’m half afraid ... to let myself go. No—don’t!’ She warded him off with a gesture, but deliberately replaced her hand over his. ‘It’s too sudden altogether. Wouldn’t it be wiser—for both of us—to wait a little? You don’t really know me one bit.’ He bowed his head and kissed the fingers that covered his own. ‘I know I love you,’ he said simply, his deep voice low and controlled. ‘And if you can say the same, that’s enough for me. The rest will be an enchanted voyage of discovery.’ ‘Voyages of discovery are rather risky things,’ she reminded him. ‘And sometimes—they end in smoke. You see, you’re not just anyone. I’m outside your world; and—your mother doesn’t like me.’ ‘Nonsense,’ he said again, with less conviction than before. ‘It isn’t. I’m sure she wants you to marry Miss Melrose. And I thought at first—you seem very intimate.’ ‘Naturally. Our intimacy began when she was eight and I was twelve.’ He spoke looking out across the stream. Something in him winced at her allusion to Sheila in that connection. But it was only fair on her to explain things; and he forced himself to proceed. ‘Her people are our nearest neighbours in Hampshire. Her mother’s the sort of person who subsists chiefly on fads and philanthropy—the kind of philanthropy that makes you abominate charity and all its works. When we lost ... Ailsa, my little sister, Mother sort of annexed Sheila, unofficially. But that doesn’t imply—that she expects me to do likewise. We’re devoted to her—both of us. She’s a splendid little person;’ he turned now and spoke with greater naturalness and warmth. ‘Not very easy to know. But _real_, right through. You’re bound to love her. There—are you satisfied?’ Without warning he slipped an arm round her. ‘Will you give me my answer now?’ He felt her yield under pressure of his hand: then, with a sudden enchanting simplicity, she lifted her face to his⸺