"I had forgotten them," she admitted. "They were nice men, too, all of them, but they all made the same mistake. I remember now they did propose to me. That, of course, was fatal." "I scarcely see----" he began. She patted him gently on the arm. "My dear Gilbert," she said, "haven't I always said that I never intend to marry any one who proposes to me? When I have quite made up my mind, I am going to do the proposing myself!" "Whether it is Leap Year or not?" he asked. "Decidedly!" she answered. "Men can always shuffle out of a Leap Year declaration. My man won't be able to escape. I can promise you that." "Does he--exist then?" Deyes asked. She laughed softly. "He's existed for a good many years more than I have," she answered. "I wasn't thinking of marrying a baby." "Ah! Does he know?" "Well, I'm not sure," she said thoughtfully. "He ought to, but he's such a stupid person." It was then that Gilbert Deyes received the shock of his life. He discovered quite suddenly that her eyes were full of tears. For the first time for many years he nearly lost his head. "Perhaps," he suggested, dropping his voice and astonished to find that it was not quite so steady as usual, "he has been waiting!" "I am afraid not," she answered, looking down for a moment at the buckle in her waistband. He looked round. "If only he were here now," he said. "Could one conceive a more favourable opportunity? An April morning, sunshine, flowers, everything in the air to make him forget that he is an old fogey and doesn't deserve----" She lifted her eyes to his, now deliciously wet. Her brows were delicately uplifted. "I couldn't do it," she murmured, "unless he were in the same room." Deyes stepped over the hyacinths and vaulted through the window. * * * * * Wilhelmina selected a freshly cut tree-stump, carefully brushed away the sawdust, and sat down. Macheson chose another and lighted a cigarette. Eventually they decided that they were too far away, and selected a tree-trunk where there was room for both. Wilhelmina unrolled a plan, and glancing now and then at the forest of scaffold poles to their left, proceeded to try to realize the incomplete building. Macheson watched her with a smile. "Victor," she exclaimed, "you are not to laugh at me! Remember this is my first attempt at doing anything--worth doing, and, of course, I'm keen about it. Are you sure we shall have enough bedrooms?" "Enough for a start, at any rate," he answered. "We can always add to it." She looked once more at that forest of poles, at the slowly rising walls, through whose empty windows one could see pictures of the valley below. "One can build----" she murmured, "one can build always. But think, Victor, what a lot of time I wasted before I knew you. I might have done so much." He smiled reassuringly.