“What’s a honeymoon?” said Peggy.

Noel burst into his merriest laugh and sprang to his feet.  “It’s the nicest thing in the world.  I’ll tell you all about it when we’re married, Peg-top!  Meantime, will you take me to see the great Dr. Jim?  I want to inveigle him into lending me his motor.”

“Oh, are you goin’ to Brethaven?” asked Peggy eagerly.  “Take me!  Do, dear Noel!”

“What for?” said Noel.

“Reggie lives there,” said Peggy.  “And Reggie’s got some rabbits—­big, white ones.”

“But suppose they don’t want you?” objected Noel.

“S’pose they don’t want you?” countered Peggy, clinging ingratiatingly to his hand.  “Then—­you can come and play with me and the rabbits—­and Reggie.”

Noel stooped very suddenly and kissed her.  “What an excellent idea, Peg-top!” he said.  “There’s nothing more useful when the road is blocked than to secure a good line of retreat.”

Peggy looked up at him with puzzled eyes, but she did not ask him what he meant.

* * * * *

It was on that same afternoon that Olga found herself wandering along the tiny glen in the Redlands grounds that had been her favourite resort in childhood.  It was only two days since she had left town, urged thereto by Dr. Jim who insisted that she had been there too long already.  Nick, moreover, who had patiently chaperoned her for the past five weeks, was wanting to rejoin his wife who had returned to Redlands soon after Noel’s operation.  And Noel himself, though still undergoing treatment at his brother’s hands, had so far recovered as to be able to leave the home and take up his abode temporarily with Sir Kersley Whitton and Max.  He had cheerily promised to follow her in a day or two; and Olga, persuaded on all sides, had yielded without much resistance though not very willingly.  She had a curious reluctance to return to her home.  Something—­that hovering phantom that she had almost forgotten—­had arisen once more to menace her peace.  And she was afraid; she knew not wherefore.

She was happier in Noel’s society than in any other.  To see him daily growing stronger was her one unalloyed pleasure, and, curiously, when with him she was never so acutely conscious of that chill shadow.  Of Max she saw practically nothing.  He was always busy, almost too busy to notice her presence, it seemed—­a fact that hurt her vaguely even while it gave her relief.

There was another fact that imparted the same kind of miserable comfort, and that was that Noel, though impetuous and loving as ever, never made any but the most casual allusions to their marriage.  She could only conclude that he was waiting to make a complete recovery, and she would not herself broach the subject a second time.  She did not actually want him to speak, but it grieved her a little that he did not do so.  She did not for a moment doubt his love, but she felt that she did not possess the whole of his confidence, and the feeling made her vaguely uneasy.  She had been so ready to give all that he had desired.  How was it he was slow to take?