By what means understanding had come to her she did not stay to question.  The tragic force of it overwhelmed all reasoning.  She knew beyond all doubting that she had made the most ghastly mistake of her life.  She had done it in blindness, but the veil had been rent away; and, horror-struck, she now beheld the accursed quicksand into which they had blundered.

“I say,” said Jerry, “you’re awfully tired, aren’t you?  You’re positively haggard.  I’ve got quite a decent little dinner for you, and I’ve done every blessed thing myself.  There isn’t a soul in the house except us two.  I thought you’d like it best.”

She smiled at him wanly, and thanked him.  He was watching her with friendly, anxious eyes.

“Yes; well, drink that up and have some more.  I’m afraid you’ll think the accommodation rather poor.  It’s only a pillbox, you know.  I’ll show you round when you’re ready.  I’ve got my kennel in the kitchen.  Best place for a watch-dog, eh?  But you’ve only got to thump on the floor if you want anything.  There, that’s better.  You don’t look quite so frozen as you did.  Come, it’s rather a lark, isn’t it?”

His boyish eyes pleaded with her, and again she made a valiant effort to respond.  She knew what stupendous efforts he had been making to secure her comfort.

“Everything is perfect,” she declared, “and you’re the nicest boy in the world.  I’m quite warm now.  What a dear little hall, to be sure!”

“Hall!” said Jerry.  “It’s the living-room!  But there’s another one upstairs that you can sit in.  I thought you would like the upper regions all to yourself.  We can call on each other, you know, now and then.  I say, it’s rather a lark, isn’t it?  Come and see my preparations for dinner.”

She went with him into the little bare kitchen, and bestowed lavish praise upon everything she saw.

Jerry’s cooking was an accomplishment of which he had some reason to be proud.  He was roasting a pheasant for his visitor’s delectation.

“I always do the cooking when we camp out,” he explained.  “Just sit down while I finish peeling the potatoes.”

He pointed to a truckle bedstead in the corner; and Nan seated herself and made a determined effort to banish her depression.

Jerry’s preparations for his own comfort were anything but elaborate.

“Oh, I could sleep on bare boards,” he lightly said, when she commented upon the hardness of his couch.  “I know the furniture isn’t up to much, but it isn’t a bad little shanty when you’re used to it.  My pater and mater spent their honeymoon here years ago, and I stayed here with two other fellows for three weeks’ grouse-shooting a couple of years back.  Rare sport we had, too.  Do you mind passing over that saucepan?  Thanks!  I say, Nan, I hope you don’t mind it being a bit rough.”

“My dear boy,” Nan said impulsively, “if it were a palace I shouldn’t like it half so well.”