"I don't easily forget. It was at Major Raine's dinner party, and we"
"Yes—yes, I know."
"I've felt just lately as if I should go out of my mind if I stayed in England. I had to get clear away. The thought of putting the Channel between me and—and But you understand."
"Oh, yes."
"And the idea of this little place which you had loved kept floating in my brain. I said to myself that, if I liked it as much as I expected to, I would have it to return to again after—you know, of course, that I must go back to Riding Wood for a few days."
"I know. So you mean to stay for awhile at dear little St. Pierre de Chartreuse?"
"No," said Sir Ian. "I don't mean to stay."
"Don't you like it, then, after all?" Terry's face fell.
"I've grown to love it, though I've only been here three days. I have taken some beautiful walks. I should think you could find a new walk every day for a month."
"Why, that's what I used to say!"
"I know you did."
"Yet, you don't mean to stop?"
"No."
Terry looked up at him searchingly. "Please tell me truly. Is it because we have come?"
