Never, he thought, had she looked so sweet! To him her faded gown of blue--bound about the slender waist with a narrow ribbon of black velvet, and cut open at her throat, showing, too, the rounded arms bare to the elbow--so plainly shabby, was the prettiest dress in all the world. In her dark hair, forgotten, there lay a single pale nasturtium, gathered earlier in the garden, and it shone among the ruffled curls like a star in the shadow of a cloud. "Roddy _is_ an artist--now." Jill went on defiantly, unconscious of the admiration in McTaggart's blue eyes. "And I don't see why his whole life should be ruined--just to please Mother! I told her so. And I tried, too, to show her that boys nowadays are allowed to choose their own professions. That it's prehistoric to say that until he's twenty-one _she_ 'knows best'--He's a human being, like herself--and he's only got one life to live! "Supposing Granny had said to Mother: 'My dear child, you _must_ be an active Anti-Suffragette--that's my wish. _I_ know best--I'm older than you,' d'you think she'd have stood it? Rather not! But, of course, Stephen will take her part--unless----" she laughed, a sudden mischief breaking through the gravity of her young face--"he thinks Sandhurst too expensive! That might save it--happy thought! I'll find out exactly what it costs and talk to Stephen--you do, too, whenever you see him, won't you, Peter?" "I'll do any mortal thing you ask!" Something in his earnest voice startled Jill. She glanced sharply in his direction through the shadows that were filling the corners of the room. "Then that's settled," she said coolly. "I think, perhaps, I'll light the lamp. It's getting almost dark in here." But he checked her. "Don't!--The moon's so lovely. It would be a shame to shut it out." In the low chair where he sat, half hidden, his back to the light, he felt he had a certain advantage over the girl facing the window. He could watch her to his heart's content, gaze up into those fearless eyes, with their long and curving sweep of lashes. "I've got a plan of my own, Jill. I came down to talk it over." He drew his chair a shade nearer, at her feet now--lightly crossed, the slender ankles visible under the shrunk washing frock. "I think we can get a rise out of Stephen--if we work together, you and I." "How?" She was watching him doubtfully. Again he felt that hint of repression, as though she stood upon her guard.