"I had to," she said simply and rather wearily. She had explained to at least twenty persons that day, as well as she could explain. She was not willing to confide to any one the incident of the flowers and the card which had brought about the impulse to return that had hardened so quickly into action. She had listened to all kinds of comments on the situation, some few sympathetic, but most of them curious and critical. Many had said to her that they never would have believed Georgie Warne would ever change her mind about anything. Others had added that perhaps it was a good thing, since her father certainly was pretty feeble and nobody knew when he might take a turn for the worse. Altogether, it had not been a happy day for the object of the village interest. Stuart sat down beside Georgiana on the old bench which bore his initials from one end to the other of it, the earliest ones hacked out during his small boyhood, the later more than once coupling Georgiana's with his own. His hand, as he settled into place, rested on one of these very monograms. "It seems like the natural thing to say I'm glad to see you back," he said slowly, "but--there's a reason why I can't say it at all." "Then don't dream of saying it." Georgiana leaned her head listlessly against the seamy old tree trunk behind her. "It's not that I wanted you to go; you know I was altogether too selfish for that," he went on. "But--something happened at the last that made me entirely reconciled to having you go. Can you guess what it was?" "Possibly." "But you can't. Of course I was pretty well dashed at finding Channing booked for the trip. But--I got over that when--I made up my mind to come, too." "To come, too!" The head resting against the tree trunk turned quickly. "What _do_ you mean?" "Jeannette suggested it," said he, with something in his voice which his listener could not quite analyze. "She put it up to me to come over while they should be staying in Devonshire, and join their house party. At first I said I couldn't, but the more I thought of it the more it seemed possible to get over there for a fortnight anyhow. The plan was not to tell you, and to surprise you by walking in on you." Georgiana stared at him, as well as she could see him through the fervid twilight. "Jimps! Why, how could you get away?" "There's never a time when it's easy to get away," he admitted; "but everything's in full sail now for the summer, and just lately I've succeeded in getting hold of an awfully competent man who could run things for the month well enough. Anyhow, of course I was dippy at the thought of going and--I promised her I would if I could manage it. I've never had the chance to travel much, and it suddenly struck me that I didn't have to deny myself every possible thing. But, of course, now that you're back----"