Molly laughed, and putting her hands on his shoulders, stood up on tip-toe and kissed him. "Well, don't tell him about that," she said, "or he might be jealous." It was exactly on the stroke of twelve as Tony's car swung in again through the gate of Goodman's Rest, and came to a standstill outside the front door. Leaving it where it was, he walked into the hall and rang the bell, which was answered almost immediately by Spalding. "Has Miss Francis arrived yet?" he asked. Spalding inclined his head. "Yes, Sir Antony. She is in the garden." He paused. "Mr. Oliver is with her," he added. Tony looked up in some surprise. "Mr. Oliver!" he repeated. "What's he doing?" "I heard him say he would show her the ranunculi, sir," explained Spalding impassively. Tony turned towards the study, the window of which opened out on to the lawn. The thought of Isabel at the solitary mercy of Guy filled him with sudden concern. The latter had evidently changed his mind about seeing her, and had doubtless taken her into the garden to express the disapproval he had so sternly enunciated that morning. Reaching the French window, however, Tony came to a sudden halt. The sight that met his eyes was, under the circumstances, a distinctly arresting one. Half-way down the lawn was a small almond tree, its slender branches just then a delicate tracery of pink and white loveliness. Guy and Isabel were standing in front of this in an attitude which suggested anything but the conclusion of a strained and painful interview. Isabel was looking up at the blossoms with her lips parted in a smile of sheer delight. A few paces off, Guy was watching her with an expression of earnest admiration almost as striking as that which she was wasting upon the almond tree. For perhaps a couple of seconds, Tony stood motionless taking in the unexpected tableau. Then with a faint chuckle he pulled out his case and thoughtfully lighted himself a cigarette. As he did so, Guy stepped forward to the tree, and breaking off a little cluster of blossom rather clumsily offered it to Isabel. She took the gift with a graceful little gesture, like that of a princess accepting the natural homage of a subject, and smiling her thanks as Guy proceeded to fasten it in her dress. It seemed to Tony that this was a very favourable moment for making his appearance. He opened the glass door, and walking down the steps, sauntered quietly towards them across the lawn. They both heard him at the same instant, and turned quickly round. Isabel gave a little exclamation of pleased surprise, while Guy's face assumed a sudden expression of embarrassment that filled Tony with delight. He looked at them gravely for a moment, and then lifting up Isabel's hand lightly kissed the pink tip of one of her fingers. "Good-morning, Cousin Isabel," he said. "I am sorry to be late. I hope Guy hasn't been unkind to you."