He gave me a quick inquisitive glance and a half smile, as if to see what I meant, and then, finding that I returned his look quite gravely, he turned back to the gate and began searching about in the gravel. Politeness obliged me to help him. He fastened his horse’s rein round the gate-post and showed me the ring, and I saw the hole where there was a stone missing. Suddenly it flashed through my mind that, while we stood under the shed on that Sunday in the rain, I had noticed the very same hole in the very same ring, and I was just going to tell him that it was of no use for him to look, for he had lost the stone much longer than he fancied, when another thought, which brought the color swiftly to my face and made my lips quiver and my heart beat faster, flashed into my mind and stopped me. And the thought was that Mr. Reade must know how long ago he had lost that stone, at least as well as I did. And from that moment a spirit of daring mischief came into me--I don’t know how--and I would not condescend to pretend to look about any longer; but I patted the horse’s neck and glanced every now and then at his master, and thought how foolish he looked hunting about so carefully for what he knew he should not find. Then he looked up, red with stooping, and caught me smiling, and he had to bite his lip in order not to smile himself as he walked up to me. “I can’t find it. It isn’t of any consequence; I sha’n’t look any longer,” he said. “Oh, but it would be such a pity to lose such a large stone, Mr. Reade!” I said boldly. “I’ll tell the gardener to hunt for it, and Sam the boy, and--” “No, no--indeed it doesn’t matter.” “And Jane the kitchen-maid. She has sharp eyes; she might spend an hour or two hunting,” I murmured confidentially, while he protested. And I think he began to suspect my good faith; and we both got into such a giggling excited state that it was very difficult to go on talking, and I was glad when some of my flowers fell down and Mr. Reade had to pick them up, and we had time to regain a little of our lost composure. “You are fond of flowers, Miss Christie?” “Oh, yes! But the best of them are over now; the rain has spoilt them all.” “The rain spoils a good many things here,” he said, with sudden gravity. “You don’t look nearly so well as you did a fortnight ago, Miss Christie, and I expect it is the damp of this place. You might as well live in a cave, you know, as in that house in a rainy season,” he added, dropping his voice. “Don’t you find yourself that your health is affected by it?” I hesitated. “It is damp, I know; but it isn’t half so bad for me, who am strong, as it is for Mrs. Rayner or for little Haidee.” “But they can’t help themselves, poor things, while it lies in your own power whether you will put up with it or not.” “You mean that I ought to go away?” “No, no, I don’t mean that,” said he hastily. “But that is what you advised me to do,” said I, looking up, surprised.