He stood in the doorway a moment, looking at her with beseeching eyes. She kept her face half averted, and would not look at him, but stood pale and cold, biting her underlip. He turned sharply away with a motion of keen disappointment, set the engines of the car into action, mounted, and drove quickly away. Lettie stood pale and inscrutable for some moments. Then she went in to breakfast and sat toying with her food, keeping her head bent down, her face hidden. In less than an hour he was back again, saying he had left something behind. He ran upstairs, and then, hesitating, went into the room where Lettie was still sitting at table. “I had to come back,” he said. She lifted her face towards him, but kept her eyes averted, looking out of the window. She was flushed. “What had you forgotten?” she asked. “I’d left my cigarette case,” he replied. There was an awkward silence. “But I shall have to be getting off,” he added. “Yes, I suppose you will,” she replied. After another pause, he asked: “Won’t you just walk down the path with me?” She rose without answering. He took a shawl and put it round her carefully. She merely allowed him. They walked in silence down the garden. “You—are you—are you angry with me?” he faltered. Tears suddenly came to her eyes. “What did you come back for?” she said, averting her face from him. He looked at her. “I knew you were angry—and——,” he hesitated. “Why didn’t you go away?” she said impulsively. He hung his head and was silent. “I don’t see why—why it should make trouble between us, Lettie,” he faltered. She made a swift gesture of repulsion, whereupon, catching sight of her hand, she hid it swiftly against her skirt again. “You make my hands—my very hands disclaim me,” she struggled to say. He looked at her clenched fist pressed against the folds of her dress. “But—,” he began, much troubled. “I tell you, I can’t bear the sight of my own hands,” she said in low, passionate tones. “But surely, Lettie, there’s no need—if you love me——” She seemed to wince. He waited, puzzled and miserable. “And we’re going to be married, aren’t we?” he resumed, looking pleadingly at her. She stirred, and exclaimed: “Oh, why don’t you go away? What did you come back for?” “You’ll kiss me before I go?” he asked. She stood with averted face, and did not reply. His forehead was twitching in a puzzled frown. “Lettie!” he said. She did not move or answer, but remained with her face turned full away, so that he could see only the contour of her cheek. After waiting awhile, he flushed, turned swiftly and set his machine rattling. In a moment he was racing between the trees. CHAPTER IV KISS WHEN SHE’S RIPE FOR TEARS It was the Sunday after Leslie’s visit. We had had a wretched week, with everybody mute and unhappy.