When she had gone, he found all trace of his usual scruples had inexplicably disappeared. It was natural, and (he said to himself) it was right! What use was this continual sacrifice of the precious hours and days of their youth--for an Idea? Besides, she looked so lovely. A man must be a stone to refuse such a delightful suggestion, or a fool. He was neither. The reaction was inevitable, and in half an hour they were in the train together, in the highest spirits, all cares thrown aside, in the hope of the spring, of sunlight, fresh air, and above all, being together alone, free, for several hours. It seemed like a dream, a dream with the added substantial tangible joy of being real. CHAPTER XVII SAVILE TAKES A LINE "Hallo, Savile!" said Felicity, who was putting the last touch to her veil in front of the mirror. "Nice boy! You're just what I wanted. Come out with me!" It was about twelve o'clock, a lovely warm morning. The first hum of the season was just beginning, like the big orchestra of London tuning up. There seemed a sort of suppressed excitement in the air. People of average spirits appeared unusually happy; the very highly strung seemed just a little wild; their eyes dancing, their tread lighter, and laughs were heard on the smallest provocation. Certainly the vision that met Felicity in the mirror was exhilarating enough. Dressed in the softest of blues, with a large brown hat on her golden hair, she looked like a pastel--a combination of the vagueness, remoteness, and delicacy of a Whistler with the concrete piquancy of a sketch in _L'Art et La Mode_. Savile, however, showed none of the intoxicating effect of a gay London morning. He seemed more serious, more self-controlled, more correct even than usual. "Where's Chetwode?" he asked. "Oh, he's just going out, dear, I think. Do you want him? Shall I ring?" "No; I shouldn't ring. What's the point of that except to delay my seeing him? No; I want to see him, so I'll go and look for him, and perhaps go out with him. I suppose you're driving, and don't need me?" "_Need_ you? Oh no, darling; not exactly. Only I thought it would be fun to go out and look at the people in the Row--and laugh at them. Besides, I always drive down Piccadilly and Bond Street when I have a new hat, to find out whether it suits me. It's such fun. I can always tell." "Frightfully comic, no doubt, but I've got something more important to think about this morning." "What a bad temper you're in, Savile! Anything wrong, darling?" "Just like a girl!" said Savile. "I never _yet_ showed any woman I had something to do that she didn't say I was in a bad temper." Felicity laughed. He went to the door and added-- "Oh, by the way, don't trouble to give my love to Wilton." She made a rush for him, and he ran out of the room. He found Lord Chetwode, as usual, in the green library, not reading the newspapers, and reposefully smoking. Savile accepted a cigarette and sat down.