“Yes, perfectly,” he said.

She glanced at him, for his tone was baffling.  “And you don’t think me—­quite heartless?”

He bent towards her.  “No,” he said, and though he smiled as in duty bound she caught a deep throb in his voice that pierced straight through her.  “I love you all the better for it.”  Then, before she could find words to protest, “I say, I believe it’s left off raining.  Hadn’t we better go while we can?”

She turned to look.  A pale light was shining from the western sky.  The storm was over.  The raindrops glittered in the growing radiance.  The whole earth seemed transformed.  “Yes, let us go!” she said, and stepped down into a world of crystal clearness.

He followed her, his face uplifted to the scattering drops, moving with a free and faun-like spring that seemed to mark him as a being closely allied to Nature, curiously vital yet also curiously self-restrained.

She did not look at him again, but as they passed together through the wonderland which with every moment was growing to a more amazing brightness, she told herself that there was little of midsummer madness about this man’s emotions.  Jest as he might, she knew by instinct that he was vitally in earnest and she had a strange conviction that it was for the first time in his life.  The certainty disquited her.  Had she fled from one danger to another—­she who only asked for peace?

But she reassured herself with the thought that he had held her against his heart, and he had not sought to take her.  That forbearance of his gave him a greatness in her eyes to which no other man had ever attained.  And gradually a sense of security to which she was little accustomed came about her heart and comforted her.  She had warned him.  Surely he understood!

CHAPTER III

A DRAWN BATTLE

Almost in silence they passed up through the dripping garden to the house side by side, Columbus trotting demurely behind.  Juliet was still limping, but she would not accept support.

“I suppose you are going to beard the lion in his den,” she said as they drew near.

“I suppose I am,” said Green.  “If you hear sounds of a serious fracas, perhaps you will come to the rescue.”

“Not to yours,” she said lightly.  “You are more than capable of holding your own—­anywhere.”

He flashed her his sudden look.  “Do you really think so?  I assure you I am considered very small fry, indeed, in this household.”

“That’s very good for you,” said Juliet.

They mounted to the terrace that bounded the south front of the house, and entered by a glass door that led into a conservatory.  Here for a moment Juliet paused.  Her grey eyes under their level brows met his with a friendly smile.

“I think I must leave you now, Mr. Green,” she said, “and go and find Mrs. Fielding.  I expect the squire is in his study.”