That quick, curious glance brings Rylton to himself.  He cannot stay here any longer.  He must go back into the house.  It will be madness to absent himself.  And, after all, is not the whole thing madness?  What is this girl to him?  A mere name; nothing more.

He mounts the steps leading to the conservatory, and, meeting Minnie Hescott, asks her to dance.

“This is only a supper dance,” says she.  “I’m engaged for all the rest.  But, if you like, I’ll take one turn with you.  After that you must get me something to eat; I never felt so hungry in all my life.”

CHAPTER XXV.

HOW TITA TOLD A SECRET TO TOM HESCOTT IN THE MOONLIGHT; AND HOW HE SOUGHT TO DISCOVER MANY THINGS, AND HOW HE WAS MOST INNOCENTLY BAFFLED.

“Of course, I shall understand that it is a secret,” says Tom Hescott.

Both he and Tita are quite unaware of the fact that Rylton and Mrs. Bethune had just been standing behind them.  Tita, who had been dancing with Hescott, had led the way to this spot when they came out into the garden.

“Still,” says Tita, hesitating, “perhaps I ought not to speak.  A secret is a secret, you know.”

“Yes; everyone knows that,” says Hescott.

“Knows what?” sharply.

“About a secret.”

“If you’re going to be nasty, you shan’t know it at all,” says Tita.  “I understand you very well.  You think no woman can keep a secret.”

“Ah! but a man can.  Tell me yours.”

“Nonsense!  A woman is twice as good at keeping a secret as a man is.  And I can tell you this”—­with a little emphatic shake of her charming head—­“that I should not tell you anything of this secret, only that you are always calling her names.”

“Her?  Who?”

“Oh, you know very well.”

“Who do I know very well?  Not a soul here except you; and, after all, I don’t think I know you very well.”

“Well, if you don’t you ought.”

“Ought what?  Know the mysterious ‘her’ or you?”

"Me!"

Hescott looks at her keenly in the dim light. Is she a born coquette, or is she only a sweet child—­the sweetest child that earth ever gave forth?  Somehow it would have hurt him to find her a coquette.

“Ah!  I don’t know you.”

“Tom!” There is a little reproach in her tone.  Suddenly she puts out her little slim hand and slips it into his.  “As if we weren’t brought up together,” says she, “just like a brother and sister.  You remember the old days, don’t you, Tom? when we used to go fishing together, and the cricket——­”

“Is it wise to remember?” says Hescott in a low tone.

His heart is beating; his fingers now close on hers.

“I don’t know—­yes.  Yes, I think I like to,” says Tita.  “Darling pappy!  Sometimes it all comes back to me.  How happy I was then!”