"She is," he affirmed. "It isn't a necessary qualification in a governess," she said. "It would be, if I were engaging one," he returned. "I should make that and an agreeable voice the principal requirements. Personally, I am interested in good-looking faces. And plain people haven't a monopoly of the virtues, you know." "No," she answered. "But they occasionally more than make up the deficit in looks in agreeable qualities." "The wise make the most of what they have," he replied. "And sometimes nature is lavish and adds kindliness and a sweet disposition to physical perfection... May I come and see you to-morrow?" he asked somewhat abruptly. "Do. Come and dine--informally. I'll ask the Carruthers." He looked slightly dissatisfied. "But I want you all to myself," he objected. "I'm a selfish fellow; I hate sharing. I prefer rather to see my friends singly than in batches. And Carruthers always wants to play bridge. One can't talk. He's fussing about the tables already. Let me come and look at the mountain with you, and gossip, and drink tea. We don't meet very often." Pamela, if she felt a little surprised, was not displeased at his cool readjustment of her invitation. She returned his steady gaze with a faint uplift of her brows and the hint of a smile in her eyes. "If you really prefer that, of course you shall," she said. "I've only a week," he said. "I want to make the most of it." "And when the week is up?" "I return to my mole-like habits," he replied. "And you haven't followed my advice?" she said. "What was that?" he asked... "Oh! I remember. Mrs Carruthers is always giving me the same. No; I don't think there is much chance of my doing that." Carruthers sauntered towards them with every intention, Dare realised, of ending the tete-a-tete. "You play at my table, Mrs Arnott," he said. He glanced at Dare. "The wife has put you at the no-stakes table," he added, grinning. "She thinks it is good for your morals to play for love on occasions." Dare regarded the speaker coolly. "That sounds like your joke, rather than Mrs Carruthers'," he remarked; "it's so feeble." Carruthers chuckled. "Ask her," he returned. Pamela looked back at Dare over her shoulder as she moved away beside her host. "It's quite the best game, really," she said, and smiled at him. "I admit it," he answered quietly, "when one is allowed to choose one's partner." Bridge without stakes was not much of a game, in Dare's opinion; but he was obliged to acknowledge that Blanche Maitland played remarkably well. He had never seen a girl play with such skill; and she held good cards. They were partners. This might have been due to chance, since they cut; but he had a suspicion that Mrs Carruthers manipulated the cards. She was clever enough, and deep enough, to do it, he reflected.