"We must hurry," she said, handing him a cup. "If I cause them anxiety at home through being late they will make such a fuss about my cycling in future." "Oh, Lord!" he murmured. "What a nuisance a family can become. I wish you were an orphan." He stirred his tea slowly, and smiled at her. "You are living up to your name. Do you know, when I first heard it, I thought it strangely unsuited." "I suppose you think me imprudent?" she said, without looking at him. "No; not that," he hastened to assure her. "But Prudence is such a Puritanic appellation. It suggests a nun. I'm not sure on the whole that I don't prefer Imprudence. It's purely a matter of taste." "Never mind my name," she said, and looked vexed. "You are not the first to discover its unsuitability. Will you have another cup of tea?" "I haven't started on my first cup yet," he answered, and lifted it to his lips to conceal his amusement. "You _are_ in a hurry. See here!" He placed a gun-metal watch on the table beside his plate. "We'll give it ten minutes. If you attempt to finish under you will ruin your digestion. I would, if permitted a choice, allow half an hour for tea and another half-hour for digestion; but since that doesn't fit in with your wishes, I sacrifice mine. Try this plum cake; it's rather good. The woman who runs this place was formerly a servant of mine, and her plum cakes are excellent." He cut the cake into generous slices. Prudence took a slice and pronounced it as good as he had promised. Although she had declared that she was not hungry, with the food before her she discovered a very healthy appetite. Her spirits began to revive. After all, it was rather jolly having tea in this quaint place, with the autumn sunshine streaming in through the little window and falling brightly across the tea-table, till the honey in its glass pot shone like liquid amber, and the dahlias, which Major Stotford had removed from the centre of the table because they obstructed his view, were ruby red against the snowy cloth. The sunlight fell too upon the man's dark hair and showed it thinning on the top and about the temples. Prudence noted these things with interest. She wondered what his age was, and decided that he was older than he appeared. She began to feel more at ease with him. He ate surprising quantities of cake in the limited time at his disposal, and dispatched several cups of tea. At the expiration of the ten minutes he returned the watch to his pocket and rose briskly. "Time's up," he said, coming round to her seat and standing over her with his hand on the back of her chair. "I think I deserve thanks for my self-sacrifice, don't you?" Prudence would have risen too, but it was impossible to do so without coming into collision with him. She wished he would not stand so close. "I can't see where the self-sacrifice comes in," she replied. "You made an excellent tea."