She came in for the other dishes. "I will on one condition—that you don't tell any one where I am—that you 've seen me, even."
"Very good. That 's agreed."
She went ahout her work. He continued smoking silently, watching her. "You 're a strange girl," he said, out of his thoughts.
"Yes?" she smiled. "How did you find me?"
"I 've been worked too hard," he sighed. "I needed a rest. I 've been knocking around the hills with a cursed mechanic that 's always stopping to take the car to pieces. However, people can't write—or telegraph me—"
"So you 've run away, too," she said, and left him to go about her kitchen work. "Have to have the place tidy before Jack comes back," she excused herself.
He sat musing, enjoying the quiet of the room, of the view across the valley showing between the curtains of the window, of the whole life that seemed to be peacefully breathing in the faint sounds from the fields. She called, sotto voce: "Don't let him come in. He might recognize me."
It was the chauffeur coming back with the car; she had seen him from the kitchen window, far up the road. Ruttley went to the door. "All right," he called through the screen.
"Good-by," he said to her, "and remember."
She dried her hands hastily. "Good-by. And don't forget. Not a word to any one."
