There is no doubt about it, if Julia had got to receive a death sentence she would have liked it to be well given; it is quite possible, had she lived at the time, she would have been one of those who objected to the indignity of riding in the tumbrils quite as much as to the guillotine at the end of the ride. She finished the preparations for dinner, got her pots and pans all nicely simmering and her oven at the right heat; then, giving some necessary directions, she left the servant to watch the cooking and went up to her own room. There she at once proceeded to answer the letter-- "DEAR MR. RAWSON-CLEW, (she wrote), "I am as glad as anything that you have done it; I never for a moment thought of it myself, though I ought, for it is just like you; thank you ever so much. "Please don't bother about me, I am all right and have arranged capitally." Here she turned over his letter to see how he had signed himself and, seeing, signed in imitation-- "Yours very sincerely, "JULIA POLKINGTON." "I wonder what his name is?" she speculated; "H. F.--H.--Henry, Horace--I shouldn't think he had a name people called him by." She read her own letter through, and as she was folding it stopped; it occurred to her that he might think courtesy demanded a formal refusal of his proposal. It was, of course, quite unnecessary; the refusal went without saying; she would no more have dreamed of accepting his quixotic offer than he would have dreamed of avoiding the necessity of making it; the one was as much a _sine qua non_ to her as the other was to him. From which it would appear that in some ways at least their notions of honour were not so many miles apart. She flattened her letter again; perhaps he would think the definite word more polite, so she added a postscript-- "Of course this means no. I am sorry we can't go on with the excursion, but we can't, you know. The holiday is over; this is 'to-morrow,' so good-bye." After that she fastened the envelope, and a while later went out to post it. As she went up the drive she caught sight of Joost some distance away in the gardens; his face was not towards her, and she congratulated herself that he had not seen her. However, the congratulations were premature; when she came back from the post she found him standing just inside the gate waiting for her, obviously waiting. At least it was obvious to her; she had caught people herself before now, and so recognised that she was caught too plainly to uselessly attempt getting away. "Do you want to hear what happened yesterday?" she asked, with an effrontery she did not feel. "I expect Denah has told you all, perhaps a little more than all, still, enough of it was true." "I want to speak to you," he said, and parted the high bushes that bordered the left of the drive.