Juliet looked up.  Someone was coming along the winding path through the wood.  She grasped Columbus by the collar, for he had a disconcerting habit of barking round the legs of intruders if not wholly satisfied as to their respectability.  The next moment a figure came in sight, and she recognized the squire.

He was walking quickly, impatiently, flicking to and fro with a stick as he came.  The frown still drew his forehead, and she saw at a first glance that he was annoyed.

He did not see her at first, not in fact until he was close upon her.  Then, as Columbus tactlessly repeated his growl, he started and his look fell upon her.

Juliet had had no intention of speaking, but his eyes held so direct a question that she found herself compelled to do so.  “I hope we are not trespassing,” she said.

He put his hand to his hat with a jerk.  “You are not, madam,” he said.  “I am not so sure of the dog.”

His voice was not unpleasant, but no smile accompanied his words.  At close quarters she saw that he was older than she had at first believed him to be.  He was well on in the fifties.

She drew Columbus nearer to her.  “I won’t let him hunt,” she said.

“He will probably get shot if he does,” remarked Mr. Fielding, and was gone without further ceremony.

Juliet put her arms around her favourite and kissed him between his pricked ears.  “What a sweet man, Columbus!” she murmured.  “I think we must cultivate him, don’t you?”

She wondered why he was going back towards the church lane at that hour, for it was past one o’clock and time for her to be wending her own way back to the village.  She gave him ample opportunity to clear the wood, however, before she moved.  She was determined that she and Columbus would be more discreet next time.

Mrs. Rickett’s midday meal was fixed for half-past-one.  She was not looking forward to it with any great relish, for her prophetic soul warned her that it would not be of a very dainty order, but not for worlds would she have had the good woman know it.  Besides, she had one cigarette left!

She got up when she judged it safe, and began to walk back.  But, nearing the stile, the sound of voices made her pause.  Two men were evidently standing there, and she realized with something like dismay that the way was blocked.  She waited for a moment or two, then decided to put a bold face on it and pursue her course.  Mrs. Rickett’s dinner certainly would not improve by keeping.

She pressed on therefore, and as she drew nearer, she recognized the squire’s voice, raised on a note of irritation.

“Oh, don’t be a fool, my good fellow!  I shouldn’t ask you if I didn’t really want you.”

The answer came instantly, and though it sounded curt it had a ring of humour.  “Thank you, sir.  And I shouldn’t refuse if I really wanted to come.”

There was a second’s silence; then the squire’s voice again, loud and explosive:  “Confound you then!  Do the other thing!”