“You angel!” for he knew what that meant.

Off he went, wing-footed, to get through his duty dance as best he could.  Rose stayed behind, dodging amongst the bushes to hide her white dress, deaf to Jim’s strident calls.  And then, presently, the lovers flitted out of the gate, across the boys’ cricket ground, and down the bank of one of the five creeks, where Rose knew of a nice seat beyond the area of possible disturbance.  As they sat down on it together, they leaned inwards, her head drooping to his shoulder, and his arm sliding round her waist in the most natural way in the world.  Then silence, packed full.  Beyond, in the moonlit waste, curlews wailing sweetly; behind, a piano barely audible from the humming house. . . .

* * * * *

“What’s the matter?” asked Alice Urquhart, when her bedfellow broke out crying suddenly, for no reason that appeared.

“Oh, I don’t know,” cackled Rose.  “I am upset with all this—­this—­”

“What has upset you?  Aha!  I saw you and that good-looking young Mr Breen making off into the garden.  You’ve been having a proposal, I suppose?”

“Yes,” sobbed Rose, between two foolish laughs, and forthwith poured out the whole story to her bosom friend.  She and Peter had decided not to disclose it to a soul until further consideration; but she was so full that a touch caused her to run over.

Miss Urquhart’s feelings, when she realised the fact that one of the Pennycuicks was committed to marry a draper, expressed themselves at first in a rather chilling silence.  But subsequently, having reviewed the situation from its several sides, and weighed the pros and cons, she decided to assist her friend to make the best of it, as against all potential enemies.

“Of course, they will be as mad as so many March hares,” said Alice, referring to the other Pennycuicks.  “But after all, when you come to think of it, what is there in a draper’s shop any more than in a soft-goods warehouse?—­and that’s quite aristocratic, if it’s big enough.  Trade is trade, and why we should make chalk of one and cheese of another passes me.  Oh, you’ve only got to be rich nowadays to be received anywhere.  These Breens seem well off, and anyway, there are the Simpsons—­they are all right.  Solid comfort, my dear, is not to be despised, especially when a girl can’t pick and choose, and may possibly never get another chance.  He is awfully presentable, too, and most gentlemanly, I am sure.  Oh, on the whole—­if you ask me—­I’d say, stick to him.”

Alice’s voice was sad, and she sighed inwardly.

“I’m going to stick to him,” said Rose.

“Well, you may count on me.  I’ll get them all asked here for a picnic, and we’ll go over to Bundaboo to invite them—­tomorrow.  Mrs Simpson said he was only with her for a few days.”

“You darling!”

“And if I were in your place, Rose, I’d marry him just as soon as he wanted me to.  I’d walk out and get it done quietly, and tell them afterwards.  It would save a lot of unpleasantness, and it wouldn’t force the hostile clans to try and make one family when they never could.”