There was no water in the fountain. In the basin grew white, sweet-smelling pinks, and on the edge of it Miss Boyle seated herself and clasped her hands in her lap. "Do you not find it sweet here?" she asked. "You have never seen my home before." She might have added with truth that he had never known her before. There was something in her rapt face that he was afraid of. He felt an alien in the garden, a stranger by her side; yet his fickle taste found this sweet after the noisy life of town, and Miss Boyle, seated before her beehives, even more winning than Miss Boyle, the beauty of the Wells. For a while they were both silent, looking at the clear space of sky above the beech-trees. She was the first to speak. "There is so much to say, and yet so little." The Earl looked at her; her white dress touched the white flowers growing in the stone basin; her auburn hair hung lightly on to her slender neck, and her eyes rested on him intently. "I should have come before," he said. "Why?" she smiled, and he wondered why it was a sad smile. "Now we are both ready. At first it was bitter, but now----" So it seemed she had never questioned he was bound to her, never questioned, either, his love. There was no mistaking the sincerity of her look, her voice. Miss Chressham was amazingly right. The church-bells came up from the town of Bristol. It was Sunday, though till now my lord had forgotten it. He took a step or two across the grass, and the sun, growing stronger at the last, gleamed on his grey satin coat, and glittered in the brilliants at his throat. "It was difficult for me," he said. "At first----" "What of your brother?" she asked. "Susannah tells me that he has gone into business in Holland." "He does well there." My lord's voice was disinterested. "That was one of the things I wished to say to you. You do not believe the--the story they whispered of the duel?" "Marius is better abroad," said the Earl evasively. "But you do not believe it?" pleaded Miss Boyle. "No, you could not!" He smiled down at her. "Very well, as you wish. I will not believe it; but it was not to speak of Marius that I came to Bristol." Inwardly he asked himself what had brought him--asked himself between tears and laughter. What he must do now he was here he could read in Miss Boyle's eyes. "You have heard of me from Susannah?" "A few words--sometimes," she answered. "I should have written." "No, it was sweet to wait." "Then you are not displeased with me?" She laughed softly. "How could _I_ be displeased with _you_?" The Earl blushed slowly. "Ye abash me, Selina. Ye should be saying this to a better man." Again Miss Boyle laughed. "Oh, my dear, my dear!" She put her hand quickly to her heart, to her lips, and rose, turning from him. "I have something to show you--something still to say to you."