A morbid regard for the exact speed limit was never one of Tony's failings, and he covered the short distance that separated them from the end of the park in what was probably a record time for that respectable stretch of fairway. He slackened down a little on reaching the gates, but as luck would have it there was no one about to obstruct his progress, and in a graceful curve he swept out on to the main road. Then with a laugh he turned to Isabel. "I love going about with you, Isabel," he said. "One never knows what's going to happen next." She made no answer, but rising slightly in her seat cast a quick, frightened glance over her shoulder as if to see whether they were being followed. "It's quite all right," went on Tony comfortingly. "I don't know who your friend is, but we shan't be seeing him again to-day." "That," said Isabel faintly--"that was my uncle." "Really!" said Tony. "He seems very impulsive." He paused for a moment while the Hispano neatly negotiated a rather dazzled-looking cluster of pedestrians, and then turning again to his companion he added consolingly: "Don't let it worry you, Isabel. Lots of charming people have eccentric uncles." She made a little protesting gesture with her hands. "Oh, no, no," she said almost piteously, "I can't go on like this. I must tell you the whole truth. I ought to have done so right at the beginning." "Just as you like," replied Tony, "but hadn't we better wait till we have had some food. It's so much easier to tell the truth after a good meal." She nodded rather forlornly, and without wasting any further discussion on the matter, Tony turned away to the right and headed off in the direction of Cookham. He continued to talk away to Isabel in his easy, unruffled fashion exactly as if nothing unusual had occurred, and by the end of the first mile or so she had pulled herself together sufficiently to answer him back with quite a passable imitation of her former good spirits. All the same it was easy to see that underneath this apparent cheerfulness she was in almost as nervous a state as when he had first met her in Long Acre. They reached Cookham, and slowing down as the car entered its pleasant, straggling main street, Tony turned into the courtyard of the Dragon. A large, sombre-looking dog attached to a chain greeted his appearance with vociferous approval; a welcome which, in spirit at all events, was handsomely seconded by the smiling proprietress, who a moment later made her appearance through the side door. Tony was distinctly popular at riverside hotels. "How do you do, Miss Brown?" he said. "Very well, thank you, Sir Antony," she replied. "And you, sir? Lie down." The latter observation was addressed to the dog. "I am suffering from hunger," observed Tony. "Do you think you can make any nice suggestion about lunch?" The landlady paused reflectively. "I can give you," she said, "some trout, a roast duckling, and marrow on toast."