Now and then Peggy would glance across the room meaningly, but he never once asked her to dance, so determined was he that her mother should not suspect the true state of affairs. His position, however, was not a very pleasant one, therefore part of the time he spent in the great old smoking-room with his host, Sir Polworth, and several other guests, some of them being women, for nowadays the ladies of a country house-party invariably invade the room which formerly was sacred to the men. When the dance had ended and the guests were about to retire, Otley managed to whisper a word to the girl he loved. He made an appointment to meet her at a secluded spot in the park near the lodge on the following morning at eleven. She kept the appointment, and when they met she stood for a few moments clasped in her lover's arms. "I had such awful difficulty to get away from Cecil," she said, laughing. She looked a sweet attractive figure in her short tweed skirt, strong country shoes and furs. "He wanted to go for a walk with me. So I slipped out and left him guessing." Her companion remained silent. A few moments later they turned along a path which led to a stile, and thence through a thick wood of leafless oaks and beeches. Along the winding path carpeted with dead leaves they strolled hand-in-hand, until suddenly Otley halted, and in a thick hoarse voice quite unusual to him, said: "Peggy. I--I have something to say to you. I--I have to go back to London." "To London--why?" gasped the girl in dismay. "Because--well, because I can't bear to be here with the glaring truth ever before me--that I----" "What do you mean?" she asked, laying her hand upon his arm. "I mean, dearest," he said in a low, hard voice, "I mean that we can never marry. There is a barrier between us--a barrier of disgrace!" "Of disgrace!" she gasped. "Oh! do explain, dear." "The explanation is quite simple," he replied in a tone of despair. "You asked me in Paris what worried me. Well, Peggy, I'll confess to you," he went on, lowering his voice, his eyes downcast. "I am not worthy your love, and I here renounce it, for--for I am a thief!" "A thief!" she echoed. "How?" "I've been hard up of late, and at the motor show I sold three cars, for which I have not accounted to the firm. The books will be audited next week and my defalcations discovered. I have no means of repaying the four thousand five hundred pounds, and therefore I shall be arrested and sent to prison as a common thief. That's briefly the position!" The girl was speechless at such staggering revelations. Charlie--a thief! It seemed incredible. "But have you no means whatever of raising the money?" she asked at last, her face pale, while the gloved hand that lay upon his arm trembled.