She smiled. "Very well, I'll be there. Thank you for giving me such a good time, Hugh." "My dear girl!" said Hugh. They rode back together through a driving drizzle, and, as Hugh had predicted, the early dusk had fallen before they reached the mill. The roar of the water sounded indescribably desolate as they drew near, and Doris gave a sharp, involuntary shiver. It was then that Hugh drew close to her and stretched out a hand in the growing darkness. "Doris!" he said softly. She put her own into it swiftly, impulsively. "Oh, Hugh!" she said with a sob. "Don't!" said Hugh gently. "Stick to it, dear! I think you won't be sorry in the end. I believe he's a good chap. Give him all you can! It's the only way to be happy." Her fingers tightened convulsively upon his. She spoke no word. "Don't, dear!" he said again very earnestly. "It's such a mistake. Honestly, I don't think you've anything to be sorry for. So don't let yourself be faint-hearted! I know he's not a bad sort." "He's very good," whispered Doris. "Yes, that's just it," said Hugh. "So don't be afraid of giving! You'll never regret it. No one could help loving you, Doris. Remember that, dear, when you're feeling down! You're just the sweetest woman in the world, and the man who couldn't worship you would be a hopeless fool." They were passing over the bridge that spanned the stream. The road was narrow, and their horses moved side by side. They went over it with hands locked. They were nearing the house when Doris reined in. "Good-bye, dear Hugh!" she said. "You're the truest friend any woman ever had." He reined in also. They stood in the deep shadow of some trees close to the gate that led into the Mill House garden. The roar of the water was all about them. They seemed to be isolated from all the world. And so Hugh Chesyl, being moved beyond his wont, lifted the hand that lay so confidingly in his, and kissed it with all reverence. "I want you to be happy," he said. A moment later they parted without further words on either side, he to retrace his steps across the bridge, she to turn wearily in at the iron gate under the dripping trees that led to the Mill House porch. She heard a man's step in front of her as she went, and at the porch she found her husband. "Oh, Jeff!" she said, slightly startled. "I didn't know it was you." "I've been looking out for you for some time," he said. "You must be very wet." "Yes, it's rained nearly all day, hasn't it? We didn't have much sport, but I enjoyed it." Doris slid down into the hands he held up to her. "Why, you are wet too," she said. "Hadn't you better change?" "I'll take the horse round first," he said. "Won't you go in?" She went in with a feeling of deep depression. Jeff's armour of reserve seemed impenetrable. With lagging feet she climbed the stairs and entered her sitting-room.