He made a face at her.  “That’s your point of view.  And what am I to say when I meet Muff and all the rest of the clan again?”

She gave a slight shrug.  “Do you think it matters?  They are much too busy chasing after their own affairs to give me a second thought.  If I were Lady Jo, they might be interested—­for half-an-hour—­not a minute longer.”

Saltash made a mocking sound.  “I know one person whose interest would last a bit longer than that—­if you were Lady Jo.”

“Indeed?” said Juliet.

“Yes—­indeed, ma Juliette!  I met him the other day at the Club before I went North, and it may interest you to know that he is determined to find her—­and marry her—­or perish in the attempt.”

“It doesn’t interest me in the least,” said Juliet.

“No?  Hard-hearted as ever!” Saltash’s grin was one of sheer mischief.  “Well, he seemed to share the popular belief that I know where the elusive Lady Jo is to be found.  I really can’t think what I’ve done to deserve such a reputation.  I was put through a pretty stiff cross-examination, I can tell you.”

“I have no doubt you were more than equal to it,” said Juliet.

Saltash broke into a laugh.  “It was such a skilful fencing-match that I imagine we left off much as we began.  But I don’t flatter myself that I am cleared of suspicion.  In fact it wouldn’t surprise me at all to find I was being shadowed—­not for the first time in my disreputable career.”

“I wonder when you will marry and turn respectable,” said Juliet.

He made an appalling grimace.  “Follow your pious example?  May heaven forbid!”

She looked at him, faintly smiling.  “Wait till the real thing comes to you, Charles Rex!  You won’t feel so superior then.”

“Do you know how old I am?” said Saltash.

“Thirty-five,” said Juliet idly.

Again his brows went up.  “How on earth do you know these things off-hand?”

Her grey eyes were quizzical.  “You are quite young enough yet to be happy—­if only the right woman turns up.”

He leaned back in his chair, his hands behind his head, and contemplated her with a criticism that lasted several seconds.  His dark face wore its funny, monkeyish look of regret, half-wistful and half-feigned.

“I wish—­” he said suddenly—­“I wish I’d come down here when you first began to rusticate.”

“Why?” said Juliet, with her level eyes upon him.

He laughed and sprang abruptly to his feet. “Quien sabe?  I might have turned rustic too—­pious also, my Juliette!  Think of it!  Life isn’t fair to me.  Why am I condemned always to ride the desert alone?”

“Mainly because you ride too hard,” said Juliet.  “None but you can keep up the pace.  Ah!” She turned her head quickly, and the swift colour flooded her face.

“Ah!” mocked Saltash softly, watching her.  “Is it Romeo’s step that I hear?”