‘Gracious! What would anyone say if they—"
“Oh, rot,” replied Bulgie cheerfully. “Stay and smoke a cigarette with us. I know you're simply longing for a cigarette. Come along!”
He slipped his arm about her waist with the obvious intention of drawing her toward an armchair. She shook herself free with unmistakable anger.
“Stop that!” she ordered indignantly, and endcavored to slip past him; but he barred her way smilingly.
“Tut, tut, tut, tut!” he mocked airily, and essayed to recapture her waist. However, at this point Mr. Arbuthnot, having regarded the little scene at two- mile range with increasing solemnity, intervened.
“Oh, I say, Bulgie,” quoth he. in deprecation and with a curious little tremor in his voice, “you're worrying Miss Barker. Cut it out.”
“Mind your own business, sweet child,” retorted Bulgie somewhat sharply.
Miss Barker dodged Bulgie's third attempt, ran past him and was half- way to her room before he had reached the foot of the stairs.
“Damn you, Arbuthnot,” he scowled, returning crestfallen to the study.
“Damin you, old chap,” replied his friend, cheerfully.
“What the devil do you mean?” asked Bulgie with another scowl.
“Oh, don’t be an ass. You know jolly well that there’s nothing wrong with that little girl. You found that out long ago. Why go on so ungrace-
fully?” Mr. Arbuthnot hiccoughed slightly. “Let's talk about something else.”
They squabbled for a little time long- er, and then went slowly up to bed, yawning and growling. Bulgie slammed his bedroom door. Whercupon Mr. Arbuthnot, who still retained some sense of humor, and who had already closed his door quietly, rcopened it and, without a smile, shut it again with a crash that re-echoed all through the big house.
He regarded himself as now quits with Bulgie, who, on the strength of that German machine gun, had been rather patronizing in the earlier part of the evening.
VIII
Upstate and by this time safely in bed, Miss Barker heard—and guessed quite accurately the reason of—those two slammed doors. Her sense of humour was certainly quite as keen as that of Mr. Arbuthnot, but just at that moment the sounds conveyed to her a much more primitive and unintellectual satisfaction.
She had taken a first step, at some risk, but with most gratifving success. Her frank intention had gone no further than to present herself to Mr. Arbuthnot’s notice under conditions more attractive than conventional; bhut the luck had remained with her, and she felt that she had achieved much more than she had hoped for.
Her next step lay quite clearly be- fore her.. Tomorrow—today rather— she would thank Mr. Arbuthnot very, very modestly and carnestly for having protected her from the advances of the wicked Bulgie. It was going to be quite simple. So simple that her mind passed on with dismay to the ending of the adventure, as a thing already assured. Before she fell asleep she got out of bed and scribbled a little protesting note to the blind, stupid boy in his cot at Birwich Hospital.
“Dearest” it ran, [ don't know when you will be able to hawve this read to you, but whenever you are able to think about things I want you to know that nothimg” (she underlined *“‘nothing” three times) “can e-cr make any differ- ence to me and that [ shall always love you—Dbetter than [ loved even you— before. Darling DBertie, ask some one to write to me for vou—ito let ne knowe how vou are getting on—and what vour plans are and how long vou think you will have to remain in hospital. - I have been thinking of vou cver since I saw you. I am alweavs thinking of you. Don’t ever forget what I have said.
