"I thought it was--about my holiday. You see, Lady Bulstrode would have been miserable if she had known that I had hired a boat and was camping out on an island by myself! Of course, it does sound rather a mad proceeding. But after wandering about with father all that time, I've got a sort of craving for the wilds, and now and then it gets so strong I simply can't resist it." "I know, Astarte," I said. "I know." "After all, there was no harm in it," she went on. "If you and Rufus hadn't turned up, no one would ever have been any the wiser. That did complicate matters." "You make me feel like one of George's official explanations," I protested. "I'd have gone, you know, if you'd insisted on it." She nodded. "I didn't want you to go a bit. I was awfully glad to have someone to play with. You see, I thought I should never see you again, and that it wouldn't matter. You can imagine what I felt like when I found you were Mr. Heathcote." "No," I said. "I wish I could. If it was anything like as----" "I suppose George is your brother--Lord Mapleton?" she interrupted hastily. "You're right," I replied. "Though George wouldn't be pleased at your way of putting it." She made a pretty little gesture with her hands. "Well," she said, "it can't be helped." Then she looked up smiling. "We must just forget all about it," she added. I shook my head. "I don't think we can do that," I answered. "You see, I want to go to Kerrin Island for part of our honeymoon." She made a slight movement, but I went on without giving her time to speak. "My dear heart," I said, "do you imagine that I'm going to let you go again unless you absolutely send me away from you?" Coming up to her, I took her two hands, and, lifting them up to my lips, kissed them alternately. She looked down on me with something very like tears in her eyes. "You're a dear, Stephen," she said softly, "you're a dear; but--but it can't be." "And why not?" I demanded. "Oh," she said pitifully. Then, with an effort: "You see, I don't love you, Stephen." I looked steadily into her eyes. "That's not true," I said calmly. "I think we'll tell each other the truth, dear, whatever it is." "Very well." She drew herself up, and her gaze met mine frankly and unflinchingly. "I do love you, Stephen," she said, "but I'm not going to marry you, because I know all about you." "I'm sorry for that," I said. "It's certainly enough to prejudice any one." She smiled a wan little smile. "Oh, my dear, I didn't mean anything unkind. I only meant that Lady Bulstrode has told me all about your career and your ambitions, and how necessary it is you should marry a rich woman. Do you think I'm going to spoil your life because I'm fond of you?" "No, I don't," I returned, "but I think you would if I gave you half a chance." Then I paused. "As it is," I went on, "I shall simply buy a marriage licence and a good second-hand thirty-ton boat, and come and carry you off by force."