“Sheila Melrose thinks you ought to have a season in town before we get married.  Would you like to do that?”

Toby looked up at him with her clear eyes wide with surprise.  “What the—­blazes has it to do with Sheila Melrose?” she said.

He laughed briefly.  “Nothing, of course.  Less than nothing.  It’s just a point of view.  She thinks you’re too pretty to be buried before you’ve had your fling—­rot of that sort.”

“My—­fling!” said Toby, and with a sudden gesture that was almost of shrinking drew his arm more closely round her shoulders.  “I should loathe it and you know it,” she said with simplicity.

He held her to him.  “Of course you would.  I should myself.  I hate the smart set.  But, you know, you are—­awfully pretty; I don’t want to do anything unfair.”

“Rats!” said Toby.

He bent his face to hers.  “Are you beginning to care for me—­just a little—­by any chance?”

She laughed and flushed, twining her fingers in his without replying.

Bunny pursued his point.  “You’d sooner marry me out of hand than go hunting London for someone more to your liking?  Would you?”

“Oh, much,” said Toby.  “But, you see, I hate London.”

“And you don’t hate me?” persisted Bunny, his dark eyes very persuasive.

She dropped her own before them, and was silent.

“Say it, sweetheart!” he urged.

She shook her head.  “Let’s talk about something else!” she said.

“All right,” said Bunny boldly.  “Let’s talk of getting married!  It’s high time we began.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean that!” said Toby quickly.

He laughed at her softly.  “Of course you didn’t!  But you were thinking about it all the same.  Do you know old Bishop is going to clear out and go and live in Fairharbour?  I shall be left alone then.  It’s rather beastly living alone, you know, darling.”

“You haven’t tried it yet,” said Toby.

“No.  But I know what it’ll feel like.  I shall hate it.”  Bunny spoke with gloomy conviction.

Toby suddenly laughed.  “No one to grouse to!  It would be rather dull certainly.  Why didn’t you fall in love with Sheila Melrose?”

“Sheila Melrose!  Why on earth should I?” Bunny spoke with some sharpness.

Toby lifted mischievous eyes.  “She’s pretty and graceful and accomplished.  She’d make a charming Lady Brian, and she has an estate of her own for you to manage.  It—­it would be—­a highly suitable arrangement for you both.”

“Don’t talk rot!” broke in Bunny with sudden heat.

His hold tightened upon her, and she made a quick, instinctive movement as though to free herself.  “I’m not!  You know I’m not!  You know—­quite well—­that if—­if—­if it hadn’t been for me—­because you chanced to meet me first—­you certainly would have—­have fallen in love with her!”

Toby spoke breathlessly, stammering a little as her habit was when agitated.  Her face was averted, and she was trying very, very hard to resist the closer drawing of his arms.