But these gigantic ideas, uttered on the spur of the moment by one who knew less than nothing of his subject, did not interest Sabina as much as he expected.  The reason, however, he did not know.  It was that he had called her by her name for the first time.  It slipped out without intention, though he was conscious of it as he spoke it; but he had no idea that it had greatly startled her and awoke mingled feelings of delight and doubt.  She was delighted, because it meant her name must have been often in his thoughts, she was doubtful, because its argued perhaps a measure less of that respect he had always paid her.  But, on the whole, she felt glad.  He waited for her to speak and did not know that she had heard little, but was wondering at that moment if he would go back to the formal ‘Miss Dinnett’ again, or always call her ‘Sabina’ in future.

After a pause Raymond spoke.

“Now tell me about yourself,” he said.  “I’m sure you’ve heard enough about me.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“How did you happen to be a spinner?”

“Mother was, so I went into it as a matter of course.”

“I should have thought old Churchouse would have seen you’re a genius, and educated you and adopted you.”

“Nothing of a genius about me.  I’m like most other girls.”

“I never saw another girl like you,” he said.

“You’d spoil anybody with your compliments.”

“Never paid a compliment in my life,” he declared.

Their conversation became desultory, and presently Sabina said she must be going home.

“Mother will be wondering.”

On the way back they met another familiar pair and Sabina speculated as to what Raymond thought; but he showed no emotion and took off his hat to Sarah Northover and Nicholas Roberts, the lathe worker, as they passed by.  Sarah smiled, and Nicholas, a thin, good-looking man, took off his hat also.

“I must go and study the lathes,” said Raymond after they had passed.  “That’s a branch of the work I haven’t looked at yet.  Roberts seems a good chap, and he’s a very useful bowler, I find.”

“He’s engaged to Sarah; they’re going to be married when he can get a house.”

“That’s another thing that must be looked to.  There are scores of cottages that want pulling down here.  I shall point that out to the Lord of the Manor when I get a chance.”

“You’re all for changes and improvements, Mister Ironsyde.”

“Call me Raymond, Sabina.”

“I couldn’t do that.”

“Why not?  I want you to.  By the way, may I call you Sabina?”

“Yes, if you care to.”

They parted at the entrance gate of ‘The Magnolias,’ and Raymond thanked her very heartily for her company.

“I’ve looked forward to this,” he said.  “And now I shall look forward to the next time.  It’s very sporting of you to come and I’m tremendously grateful and—­good-bye, Sabina—­till to-morrow.”