"It's--er--rather an unusual proposition, isn't it? It is, as you say, somewhat difficult to discuss. Suppose," she cried desperately, "we treat it with a sense of humour! _Don't_ let us be serious. Let us laugh over it, and then it will become quite easy." "Oh, thank you, yes. How ripping of you!" His eyes flashed relief. "I can promise you that it won't be nearly as trying as it sounds. The old people will be all that is kind, and--er--you understand that he is an invalid, and his wife is his nurse. They are engrossed with their own affairs, and won't worry you with questions. It is only in your supposed connection with me that you will--er--enter into their lives. As to myself, I have the reputation of being reserved to a fault. They won't expect me to--er--er--" Juliet forced a determined smile. "Precisely so! We'll be a model of all that an engaged couple--ought to be. But I had better not make myself too agreeable, in case the subsequent breaking off should prejudice the old people against you. I conclude I am to break it off?" "Yes, please, if you don't mind--when I meet the real girl. But please do me credit _pro tem_. The great thing is to demonstrate to the old man that I seriously think of marriage, and those two years give plenty of time. You understand that you have an insuperable objection to the Indian climate?" "Certainly; that's easy. I've always longed to go, so I shall just turn my arguments upside down. And--er--where did we meet?" "Oh, yes, of course, we must have some mutual coaching. There's not much time now, but after tea they'll expect us to have a _tete-a-tete_; we'll go over it then. I was introduced to you at Henley. You're the sister of Phil Lawson, an old school friend. It--er--it was a case at first sight. We got engaged on the third day." "Most unwise!" said Juliet primly, and they laughed together with the heartiness born of relief from a painful situation. Really, this sense-of-humour attitude was an admirable solution. Antony slackened the reins and, fumbling in a pocket, drew out a small box. "May I--just for the next few days--beg your acceptance of this bauble?" "Oh, thank you." Juliet drew off her gloves and held up a well-shaped hand, on the third finger of which sparkled a row of diamonds. "It's not necessary. I can put this one on my left hand. It has quite an engagementy look about it, and I'd rather--" "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid it won't do. This is a family heirloom. The old man would consider it a slight if it were not used. Just for one week."