A respectful manservant took Hugh's coat and hat; he led the way, and
flung a door wide.

"General Bartholomew will be with you in a few moments, sir," he said;
and Hugh found himself in a large, old-fashioned London drawing-room.

"To-morrow," Hugh was thinking, "Hurst Dormer--work, something to occupy
my thoughts till I can forget. It is going to take a lot of forgetting,
I suppose I shall feel more or less a cad all my life, though Heaven
knows--"

He swung round suddenly. The door had opened; he heard the swish of
skirts, and knew it could not be General Bartholomew.

But who it would be he could not have guessed to save his life. They met
again for the third time in their lives. At sight of him the girl had
started and flushed, had instinctively drawn back. Now she stood still,
regarding him with a steadfast stare, the colour slowly fading from her
cheeks.

And Hugh stood silent, dumbfounded, astonishment clearly shown on his
face.




CHAPTER XII

"I TAKE NOT ONE WORD BACK"