She glanced at him. "I said 'we.'" "I know you did." The man's voice had suddenly a dogged ring; he looked across at the vivid, piquant face with the suggestion of a frown between his eyes. "Don't do that!" she said, lightly. "Never do that, Billikins! It's most unbecoming behaviour. What's the matter?" "The matter?" he said, slowly. "The matter is that you are going to the Hills for the hot weather with the rest of the women, Puck. I can't keep you here." She made a rude face at him. "Preserve me from any cattery in the Hills!" she said. "I'm going to stay with you." "You can't," said Merryon. "I can," she said. He frowned still more. "Not if I say otherwise, Puck." She snapped her fingers at him and laughed. "I am in earnest," Merryon said. "I can't keep you here for the hot weather. It would probably kill you." "What of that?" she said. He ignored her frivolity. "It can't be done," he said. "So you must make the best of it." "Meaning you don't want me?" she demanded, unexpectedly. "Not for the hot weather," said Merryon. She sprang suddenly to her feet. "I won't go, Billikins!" she declared, fiercely, "I just won't!" He looked at her, sternly resolute. "You must go," he said, with unwavering decision. "You're tired of me! Is that it?" she demanded. He raised his brows. "You haven't given me much opportunity to be that, have you?" he said. A great wave of colour went over her face. She put up her hand as though instinctively to shield it. "I've done my best to--to--to--" She stopped, became piteously silent, and suddenly he saw that she was crying behind the sheltering hand. He softened almost in spite of himself. "Come here, Puck!" he said. She shook her head dumbly. "Come here!" he repeated. She came towards him slowly, as if against her will. He reached forward, still seated, and drew her to him. She trembled at his touch, trembled and started away, yet in the end she yielded. "Please," she whispered; "please!" He put his arm round her very gently, yet with determination, making her stand beside him. "Why don't you want to go to the Hills?" he said. "I'd be frightened," she murmured. "Frightened? Why?" "I don't know," she said, vaguely. "Yes, but you do know. You must know. Tell me." He spoke gently, but the stubborn note was in his voice and his hold was insistent. "Leave off crying and tell me!" "I'm not crying," said Puck. She uncovered her face and looked down at him through tears with a faintly mischievous smile. "Tell me!" he reiterated. "Is it because you don't like the idea of leaving me?" Her smile flashed full out upon him on the instant. "Goodness, no! Whatever made you think that?" she demanded, briskly. He was momentarily disconcerted, but he recovered himself at once. "Then what is your objection to going?" he asked. She turned and sat down conversationally on the corner of the table.