Little by little he commenced to address his remarks exclusively to Ruthita. This was natural, for I could not turn round to converse with him because of attending to the horse. I observed him out of the corner of my eye, and began to understand the secret of his power over women. For one thing he talked entirely to a woman, bestowing on her an intensity of attention which many would consider flattering. Then again he put a woman at her ease, drawing her out and speaking of things which were within her depth. Most of the topics which he drifted into were personal. When he mentioned himself, he lowered his voice as if he were confessing. When he mentioned her, his tones became earnest. I was surprised to see how Ruthita, usually so reticent, lowered her guard to his attack. She twisted round on her seat, that she might watch him. Her face grew merry and her eyes twinkled with fun and laughter. She was being, what she had declared she never was--natural with a man. Out of the corner of my eye I saw one thing which displeased me immensely. With apparent unconsciousness, Halloway’s arm was slipping farther and farther along the back of the seat against which Ruthita rested. A little more, and it would have encircled her. But before that was accomplished, he stopped short, leaving nothing to complain of. He was simply steadying himself in a jolting dog-cart. We entered Woadley and passed the tall gates of the Park. I had a glimpse of the Hall through the trees, and the peacocks strutting where the gardens began and the meadowland left off. I smiled to myself as I wondered what would happen if Sir Charles should meet Halloway and myself together. Two miles out of Woadley Ruthita and my cousin were still industriously chatting. I had my suspicions as to the urgency of his errand. Then the arm slid an inch further along the back-rail of the seat. That inch made his attitude barely pardonable. I reined in. “Didn’t you say you were going to Woadley?” “Why, yes,” he laughed. “I have to get out at the next cross-road and walk. The farms are over in that direction.” He swept a belt of woodland vaguely. He lied consummately. His face told me nothing. “Well, here’s the next cross-road.” My manner was churlish. He refused to acknowledge anything hostile in my tones. “I’m awfully grateful to you,” he said; “you’ve saved me a long walk and I’ve enjoyed your company immensely.” As he spoke the last words he smiled directly into the eyes of Ruthita. “I shall hope to meet Miss Cardover again--perhaps at Oxford.” I did not think it necessary to tell him that Ruthita’s surname was not Cardover but Favart. We watched him stride away, clean-limbed and splendid--a man who had sinned discreetly and bore no physical marks of his shortcomings. At last Ruthita spoke. “I don’t think I like him.” “You didn’t let him know it.” “He made me forget. He made me remember I was a woman. No man’s ever spoken to me as he spoke.”