As they passed into the lane, and under the chequered shadows of the elms, Mildred felt the influence of her companion. She was not in love with Jarman, or with anyone, but she liked and admired him immensely, and, granted that the fairy prince did not come along, was not unprepared to listen should he speak. Still, the feeling of sorrow for the death of her brother lay heavily upon her, and she sighed as the cool night wind ruffled her dark hair. After a time, to break the silence, she asked Jarman about the new secretary. "Mrs. Perth told me that he was very handsome," she said. "Oh, he's good-lookin' enough," replied Eustace, "but his spectacles rather spoil him. Weak eyes, you know." "I was not aware that you intended to engage a secretary." "I have so much work to do." "You might have engaged me," said Miss Starth, reproachfully. "I can type quite as quickly as you can dictate, and you know I am always glad to assist you." "I know that," said Jarman, suppressing a strong inclination to take her in his arms. "We have done some work together." "_You_ have. I don't know what I should have done without you to correct my verses and help me to get them printed. I was only sixteen when I showed you my first poem." "Yes. And very shy you were over it. Natural in a schoolgirl." "I am not a schoolgirl now, Mr. Jarman." Who knew that better than Eustace? "I wish you were," he muttered. "Why? You should be glad to see me grow up, Mr.--" "Why so formal, Miss Starth--Mildred. Call me Eustace." "I should like to--Eustace," said the girl, frankly--too frankly, alas! for any feeling of love to lurk in the words. "You know how fond I am of you," and she squeezed his arm playfully. "Mildred!" He could stand it no longer, although he felt that this was not the time to speak of love. But the influence of the hour, of her words, and the feeling of jealousy inculcated by Darrel's arrival made him confess his secret. "Mildred?" "Yes." She detected the change in his voice, and grew nervous. "I--I--love you!" "Mr. Jarman--I mean Eustace!" "I didn't mean to speak," went on the man, rapidly. "I know you have heavy troubles to face. But I wish to help you. If you would accept me as your husband, if you would lean upon me through life, I would do all that I could to save you from being worried." Under the shadow of the trees, a stone's-throw from the white gate of Rose Cottage, Mildred stood still, her hands clasped before her. A shaft of light piercing the leafage shed its radiance on her beautiful face, and Eustace put a constraint on himself. Under his breath he quoted the Arabic proverb: "Blessed be Allah who made beautiful woman." "Eustace, I never thought of this!" "And you are angry?" "No--no. I'm not exactly angry. But--" "You love me, then--you love me!" She could feel his breath on her cheek, and shrank away from the passion expressed in his deep voice.