This incident brought the visit to a close, for as Olive did not reappear to explain her sudden anger, Mallow said good-bye to Miss Ostergaard, and departed with the reluctant Aldean. The young lord, guessing that his friend and Olive had come to words, more than expected to have a peevish companion for his homeward walk, instead of which Mallow was quite uproariously merry. By this time he had fathomed the cause of Olive's wrath, and he cursed himself for a fool not to have seen and known that she was not the woman to wear her heart upon her sleeve. Her sudden retreat after her foolish speech had been the result of fear at having betrayed her real feelings. These were not for Carson, he was sure of that now, but for himself--Olive loved him; and whether the pre-arranged marriage took place or not, nothing could alter that fact. As the thought became conviction, Mallow found it impossible to suppress the joy he felt, and he forthwith indulged in antics which would have shamed a schoolboy. "What is it?" asked Aldean, amazed at this conduct in so grave a man. "What do you think it is, Jim?" "Lunacy, I should say, on the face of it." "No, my boy; but a word much the same in meaning, which begins with the same letter." "Larking?" guessed the obtuse Jim, with a grin. "I can't say much for your penetration, Lord Aldean," said Mallow, with a laugh. "Love is the word I mean--love is the feeling which thrills me, for 'to-day the birthday of my life is come.'" "One would think you had been celebrating the occasion with strong drink," retorted Jim, soberly. "Have you spoken to Miss Bellairs?" "No, sir; I have done nothing so foolish." "Then has she perhaps given you to understand----" "Of course not; do you think for one moment she is the woman to do such a thing?" "I don't know; once or twice girls have pretty near proposed to me. I've had some trouble with them, I can tell you. Then how do you know it is all right?" "Because I do know." "That isn't an answer; it's a statement." "Then you will have to take the statement for your answer, my dear old thickhead. Olive loves me, the angel that she is." "She ran away from you." "I know she did, but she loves me." "She was in a pelting rage; I saw her face." "I know she was, but she loves me." "Oh, come home," growled Aldean, putting his arm within that of his enigmatic friend. "You're a human cuckoo." Mallow laughed, and went back to Kingsholme with an excellent appetite, which went to prove that he was no lover out of a sickly romance. For the next two or three days he made no attempt to see Olive, but lived on the memory of her self-betrayal. In spite of Jim's insidious hints that the pleasantest walks tended towards the Manor House, Laurence kept away. With his host he rode and drove and played golf. He spun over the country on his Humber, and fought Jim valiantly in singles on the tennis-lawn.