"I assure you that I never was and never could be conscious of any difference between us like that," she affirmed. "I look upon you as an old friend whom Fate--Fate," she repeated emphatically, for she felt that it was imperative to make it clear from the start that Fate was going to be accounted culpable for anything that might happen, "whom Fate has brought once more into my life. I should never have allowed myself to take this walk with you alone, if I didn't consider you an old friend. And now I'm sure you ought to be keeping your appointment. It would never do for you to neglect your business on my account." "But shall we ever meet again?" he asked. "Fate will decide that," answered Mary demurely. "I dare say, if your business brings you this way sometimes, we shall meet." And of course they did meet, not once but many times that Spring. "It was really a happy thought of Mr. Alison's to give you that odd-looking dog," Lady Flower observed. "Your color is much better since you've made a habit of exercising that dog in the Park. I really don't think you'll want to leave town until the season is over. And I shall not be sorry for an excuse to stay where I am. I find these short excursions into the country rather a bore nowadays." "I'm perfectly well in London," Mary assured her grandmother. "I think it would be a great mistake to go away." Mary did not meet Pierre in the Park every day, but she did meet him very often; and, although at the back of her mind she had a suspicion that he must be neglecting his business to be able to meet her as often as he did, she allowed herself to suppose that it was Fate. And if ever before her mirror she was tempted by honesty to ask herself what was going to be the end of it, she always hurried down to dinner and left Fate to argue it out upstairs. Her friend Daisy had been back in town a long time before Mary gave the least hint of an interest in life. In fact, if she had not met Pierre unexpectedly one morning when she was out walking with Daisy, she would probably never have said anything about her romance. "So that's why you find Jemmie Alison so dull," her friend laughed. "My dear, what has he got to do with Jemmie Alison?" "A great deal, I should imagine, by your blushes." "Did I never tell you about young Menard, when we were at the _pension_?" Daisy shook her head. "Of course, it happened before you came. When I was there during the war." She related briefly the tale of Pierre's determination to fight for his country. "And the other day we met again quite by accident." "And no doubt will go on meeting quite by accident," said Daisy dryly. "I must take Mac somewhere," Mary protested.