"Are you going away, Caroline?" inquired Lord Marshmoreton

hopefully.

"I am giving a short talk to the Social Progress League at

Lewisham. I shall return tomorrow."

"Oh!" said Marshmoreton, hope fading from his voice.

"Thank you, Miss Faraday," said Lady Caroline. "The twelve-fifteen."

"The motor will be round at a quarter to twelve."

"Thank you. Oh, by the way, Miss Faraday, will you call to Reggie

as you pass, and tell him I wish to speak to him."

Maud had left Reggie by the time Alice Faraday reached him, and

that ardent youth was sitting on a stone seat, smoking a cigarette

and entertaining himself with meditations in which thoughts of

Alice competed for precedence with graver reflections connected

with the subject of the correct stance for his approach-shots.

Reggie's was a troubled spirit these days. He was in love, and he

had developed a bad slice with his mid-iron. He was practically a

soul in torment.

"Lady Caroline asked me to tell you that she wishes to speak to

you, Mr. Byng."

Reggie leaped from his seat.

"Hullo-ullo-ullo! There you are! I mean to say, what?"

He was conscious, as was his custom in her presence, of a warm,

prickly sensation in the small of the back. Some kind of

elephantiasis seemed to have attacked his hands and feet, swelling

them to enormous proportions. He wished profoundly that he could

get rid of his habit of yelping with nervous laughter whenever he

encountered the girl of his dreams. It was calculated to give her a

wrong impression of a chap--make her think him a fearful chump and

what not!

"Lady Caroline is leaving by the twelve-fifteen."

"That's good! What I mean to say is--oh, she is, is she? I see

what you mean." The absolute necessity of saying something at least

moderately coherent gripped him. He rallied his forces. "You

wouldn't care to come for a stroll, after I've seen the mater, or a

row on the lake, or any rot like that, would you?"

"Thank you very much, but I must go in and help Lord Marshmoreton

with his book."

"What a rotten--I mean, what a dam' shame!"

The pity of it tore at Reggie's heart strings. He burned with

generous wrath against Lord Marshmoreton, that modern Simon Legree,

who used his capitalistic power to make a slave of this girl and

keep her toiling indoors when all the world was sunshine.

"Shall I go and ask him if you can't put it off till after dinner?"

"Oh, no, thanks very much. I'm sure Lord Marshmoreton wouldn't

dream of it."

She passed on with a pleasant smile. When he had recovered from the

effect of this Reggie proceeded slowly to the upper level to meet

his step-mother.




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