“No,” said Mordaunt quietly.  “I won’t say that.”  He added a moment later, as he dropped the end of his cigarette into his coffee-cup, “I believe in my friends, Rupert.”

“Till they let you down,” suggested Rupert.

“They never do.”

“Then allow me to say that you are one of the luckiest fellows I have ever met.”

“Perhaps.”

“And the best,” Rupert added impulsively.

There was a moment’s silence, then, “Shall we join the ladies?” suggested Trevor Mordaunt, in a tone that sounded rather bored.

CHAPTER IV

DOUBTS

“He’s nice, isn’t he?” said Chris.

She was seated on a hassock close to her cousin’s knee, a favourite position of hers.

Hilda’s fingers fondled the sunny hair.  Her eyes looked thoughtful.  “I am so glad for you, dear,” she said.

“I knew you would be,” chuckled Chris.  “Aunt Philippa is delighted too.  It’s the first time I’ve ever known her pleased with me.  It feels so funny.  Ah!  There is my sweet Cinders!  I must just let him in.”

She sprang up to admit her favourite, whose imperious scratch at the door testified to the fact that he was not accustomed to being kept waiting.  There ensued a tender if somewhat pointless conversation between himself and his mistress before she returned to her seat and her confidences.

“Did you ever refuse to marry anybody, Hilda?” she wanted to know then.

“Yes, dear.”

“Many?”

“Three,” said Hilda.

“Goodness!” Chris looked up with shining eyes of admiration.  “How ever did you do it?”

“I wasn’t in love with them,” said Hilda simply.

“Oh!  And you are in love with Percy?”

“Yes, dear.”  Again with the utmost simplicity the elder girl made answer.

“How nice!” said Chris.  “But I can’t think how you knew,” she said, after a moment.

Hilda leaned forward to look into the clear eyes.  A faint gleam of anxiety showed for a moment in her own.  “But surely you know, Chris!” she said.

“I!” said Chris, with a gay shake of the head.  “Oh, no, I don’t.  You know, I don’t believe it’s in me to fall in love in the ordinary way.  I was quite angry with Rupert only this evening for jeering at me, as if I were.  Oh, no, Hilda, I’m not in love like that.”

“But, my dear—­” Hilda looked down in grave perplexity, not unmixed with apprehension.

Chris leaned back against her quite unconcernedly, her hands clasped round her knees, and laughed like an elf.  “Darling, don’t look at me like that!  It’s too funny.  Don’t you know that it’s only you staid, good people who ever fall in love properly?  The rest of us only pretend.  That’s where the romance comes in.”

“But, dear, Trevor Mordaunt is in love with you,” Hilda reminded her gently.

“Oh yes,” said Chris, “I know.  That’s why I had to accept him.  I don’t believe even you could have said No to him.”