'Oh!' exclaimed Peggy, rather startled, and blushing a little, looking down, too, at her unceremonious morning attire. 'Ah!' said Tommy, pointing at her flowers and shaking his head. 'Well, you've got some too.' 'I was going to leave them for you--just in acknowledgment of the lobsters. What have you bought those for?' 'They're for her,' said Peggy. 'I shall like to have yours for myself.' 'Nobody ever needed them less, but I'll bring them round,' said he. They walked together to her door. Then Tommy said:-- 'Well, you can tell me?' 'I can tell you part of it--not all,' said Peggy. 'Who is she, then?' 'Nobody else is to know.' She whispered to him: 'Trix Trevalla!' Tommy considered a moment. Then he remarked:-- 'You'll probably find that you've got to send for me.' Peggy raised her brows and looked at him derisively. He returned her gaze placidly, with a pleasant smile. Peggy laughed gently. 'If Mrs. Trevalla is so foolish, I don't mind,' she said. Tommy strolled off very happy. 'The thing moves, I think,' he mused as he went his way. For the more love she had for others, the more and the better might she some day give to him. It is a treasure that grows by spending: such was his reflection, and it seems but fair to record it, since so many instances of a different trend of thought have been exhibited. CHAPTER XV NOT EVERYBODY'S FOOTBALL Lord Barmouth was incapable of speaking of it--incapable. He said so, and honestly believed himself. Indeed it is possible that under less practised hands he would have revealed nothing. Lady Blixworth, cordially agreeing that the less said the better, extracted a tolerably full account of the whole affair. 'She did, she actually did,' he assured her, as though trying to overcome an inevitable incredulity. 'I was standing in the middle of the path, and she'--he paused, seeking a word--something to convey the monstrous fact. 'Shoved you off it?' suggested Lady Blixworth, in no difficulty for the necessary word. 'She pushed me violently aside. I all but fell!' 'Then she scuttled off?' This time he accepted the description. 'Exactly what she did--exactly. I can describe it in no other way. She must have been mad!' 'What can have driven her mad at Barslett?' asked his friend innocently. 'Nothing. We were kindness itself. Her troubles were not due to her visit to us. We made her absolutely one of the family.' 'You tried, you mean,' she suggested. 'Precisely. We tried--with what success you see. It is heart-breaking--heart----' 'And what did Mortimer say?' 'I didn't tell him till the next morning. I can't dwell on the scene. He ran to her room himself; I followed. It was in gross disorder.' 'No!' 'I assure you, yes. There was no letter, no word for him. Presently his mother prevailed on him to withdraw.' 'It must have been a shock.' 'I prefer to leave it undescribed. Nobody could attempt to comfort him but our good Sarah Bonfill.' 'Ah, dearest Sarah has a wonderful way!'