As it happened, she was waiting, sitting over the remains of a little fire she had lighted for company. The reason she felt the need of company, and the reason she was waiting, was the fact of a perturbed frame of mind she was endeavouring to soothe, until he came in to give the final touch. She was perturbed because of the change in Sir Edwin Crathie, and the closing scene of a somewhat eventful day. Until tea-time he had been as gay and lighthearted and inconsequent as ever. Their lunch in the New Forest had been an immense success, and both had enjoyed it thoroughly. On their way home they further enjoyed a big tea at an hotel. Moreover, the drive had been delightful. The glory of the autumn tints; the delicious stillness of the autumn weather, and the sunny coolness of the atmosphere had all contributed to make the day perfect. After her long hours of office work and monotony, Hal was only the better tuned to enjoy it, and as she leant back in blissful ease in the luxurious motor, she thought what a goose she would have been to let prudish thoughts influence her to forgo it. Then, once more, after tea, he had deliberately moved his chair nearer to hers, and struck a personal note that she found it difficult to combat. “Do you know,” he told her blandly, “you’re the dearest little woman I’ve met for a long time? I don’t know when I’ve enjoyed a whole day with any one so much as this.” “It’s just the novelty,” she said, adopting a note of unconcern to head him off; “most of your friends flatter and try to please you. It amuses me more to contradict you; that’s all.” “Oh, that’s all, is it! Well, I dare say if I found a special joy in being contradicted, I could easily humour the fancy without going for a whole day into the country.” “Ver likely—only, since you wanted your day in the country, you kill two birds with one stone, don’t you see?” “And supposing I badly wanted something else from you besides contradiction!… a little affection, for instance!” “Oh, I’m giving you a lot of that thrown in,” gaily, but she pushed her chair a little farther away; “if I didn’t rather like you I shouldn’t bother to contradict you.” “Rather like me!… that’s very cold—I, a great deal more than _rather_ like you.” “That, of course, is different,” with a jaunty air, that made them both laugh. “Still, I don’t think we can stop at ‘rather liking’, now—do you?” “I don’t see why we shouldn’t; we are getting on very nicely.” He got up suddenly, and walked away to the window. In his heart of hearts he was a little nonplussed. Of course they couldn’t stop where they were, he argued; but how, with a girl of Hal’s practical level-headedness get any farther? Then he remembered he was a firm believer in swift and sudden measures, and usually found they fitted all contingencies. So he swung round, crossed the room, put his hand on her shoulders, and boldly kissed her. “There,” he said—“that is how I ‘rather like’ you.”