What magic is it teaches men how to answer the women they love—­endows them with a quickness of perception denied them till the flame of love flares up within them, and doubly denied them should that flame burn low behind the bars of matrimony?  Surely it must be some cunning wile of old Dame Nature’s—­whose chief concern is, after all, the continuation of the species.  She it is who knows how to deck the peacock in fine feathers to the undoing of the plain little peahen, to crown the stag with the antlers of magnificence so that the doe’s velvet eyes melt in adoration.  And shall not the same wise old Dame know how to add a glamour to the sons of men when one of them goes forth to seek his mate?

Had Roger been just his normal self that afternoon—­his matter-of-fact, imperceptive self—­he would never have known how to answer Nan’s half-desperate question, and the rose-garden might have witnessed a different ending to the scene.  But Mother Mature was fighting on the side of this man-child of hers, whispering her age-old wisdom into his ears, and the tender comprehension of his answer fell like balm on Nan’s sore heart.

“I’ll keep you safe!”

It was safety she craved most of all—­the safety of some stronger barrier betwixt herself and Peter.  Once she were Roger’s wife she knew she would be well-guarded.  The barrier would be too high for her to climb, even though Peter called to her from the other side.

A momentary terror of giving up her freedom assailed her, and for an instant she wavered.  Then she remembered her bargain with Fate—­and if, finally, Roger were willing to take her when he knew everything, she would marry him.

Her hand crept out and slid into his big palm.

“Very well, Roger,” she said quietly.  “If—­knowing everything—­you still want me . . .  I’ll marry you.”

And as his arms closed round her, crushing her in his embrace, she seemed to hear a distant sound like the closing of a door—­the door of the forbidden might-have-been.

CHAPTER XIII

BY THE LOVERS’ BRIDGE

The usual shower of congratulations descended upon the heads of Nan and Roger when, on their return from the rose-garden, the news of their engagement filtered through the house-party and the little bunch of friends who had “dropped in” for tea, sure of the unfailing hospitality of Mallow Court.  Those amongst the former who had deeper and more troubled thoughts about the matter were perforce compelled to keep them in abeyance for the time being.

It was only when the visitors had departed that Kitty succeeded in getting Nan alone for a few minutes.

“Are you quite—­quite happy, Nan?” she asked somewhat wistfully.

Nan’s eyes met hers with a blankness of expression which betrayed nothing.

“Yes, thank you.  What a funny question to ask!” she responded promptly.