“By Jove!  Tobacco!  Wait for me!” and, turning, fled back whence he came, at full speed.

Claudia made an attempt at following him, but the weather was hot and the road dusty, and, confronted with the alternative of a tete-a-tete and a damaged personal appearance, she reluctantly chose the former.

Haddington did not let the grass grow under his feet.  “Well,” he said, “it won’t be unpleasant to rest a little while, will it?  Here’s a dry bank.”

Claudia never wasted time in dodging the inevitable.  She sat down.

“I am very glad of this opportunity,” Haddington began, in such a tone as a man might use if he had just succeeded in moving the adjournment.  “It’s curious how little I have managed to see of you lately, Lady Claudia.”

“We meet at least five times a day, Mr. Haddington—­breakfast, lunch, tea—­”

“I mean when you are alone.”

“Oh!”

“And yet you must know my great—­my only object in being here is to see you.”

“The less I say the sooner it will be over,” thought Claudia, whose experience was considerable.

“You must have noticed my—­my attachment.  I hope it was without displeasure?”

This clearly called for an answer, but Claudia gave none.  She sighed slightly and put up her parasol.

“Claudia, is there any hope for me?  I love you more—­”

“Mr. Haddington,” said Claudia, “this is a painful scene.  I trust nothing in my conduct has misled you. [This was known—­how, I do not know—­to her brothers as “Claudia’s formula,” but it is believed not to be uncommon.] But what you propose is utterly impossible.”

“Why do you say that?  Perhaps you do not know me well enough yet—­but in time, surely?”

“Mr. Haddington,” said Claudia, “let me speak plainly.  Even if I loved you—­which I don’t and never shall, for immense admiration for a man’s abilities is a different thing from love [Haddington looked somewhat soothed], I could never consent to accept the position of a pis-aller.  That is not the Territon way.”  And Lady Claudia looked very proud.

“A pis-aller!  What in the world do you mean?”

“Girls are not supposed to see anything.  But do you think I imagine you would ever have honored me in this way unless a greater prize had been—­had appeared to be out of reach?”

This was not fair; but it was near enough to the mark to make Haddington a little uneasy.  Had Kate been free, he would certainly have been in doubt.

“I bear no malice about that,” she continued, smiling, “only you mustn’t pretend to be broken-hearted, you know.”

“It is a great blow to me—­a great blow.”

Claudia looked as if she would like to say “Fudge!” but restrained herself and, with the daring characteristic of her, placed her hand on his arm.

“I am so sorry, Mr. Haddington.  How it must gall you to see their happiness!  I can understand you turning to me as if in self-protection.  But you should not ask a lady to marry you because you’re piqued with another lady.  It isn’t kind; it isn’t, indeed.”