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 tremble, when a look from her honest brown eyes had shaken the soul of him. And now there was a whole passionate world between them. He looked at her without emotion, or with but a vague curiosity. She was still very sweet in her pale, lovely fashion. In her soft white gown she looked so beautifully cool and fresh in the glare of that August sun. The great black hat with its white plumes added a perfect finish to the picture. Around them London steamed in an agony of heat. In places the grass showed brown and bare. Yet she moved through it all like a fragrant white flower, and made him think of shady valleys and cool sweet breezes.

“T did not know Lady Sherringford was so ill,” he said at last. He was not really in- terested in Lady Sherringford, but the white figure beside him had been strangely silent for some time.

“Poor aunt! Iam afraid she has been rather bad, but we hope to get her down to Sherring- ford next week. Are you coming?”

“I hope so,” he replied; “though this wretched business with the car is sure to upset my arrangements.”