"I wanted to make sure," said Derrick, "whether Paul Wharncliffe
could see Lady Lettice, when she took the falcon on her wrist below
in the passage. I mustn't say he saw her if it's impossible, you
know. Authors have to be quite true in little things, and I mean to
be an author."

"But," said my mother, laughing at the great earnestness of the
hazel eyes, "could not your hero look over the top of the rail?"

"Well, yes," said Derrick. "He would have done that, but you see
it's so dreadfully high and I couldn't get up. But I tell you what,
Mrs. Wharncliffe, if it wouldn't be giving you a great deal of
trouble--I'm sorry you were troubled to get my head back again--but
if you would just look over, since you are so tall, and I'll run
down and act Lady Lettice."

"Why couldn't Paul go downstairs and look at the lady in comfort?"
asked my mother.

Derrick mused a little.

"He might look at her through a crack in the door at the foot of the
stairs, perhaps, but that would seem mean, somehow. It would be a
pity, too, not to use the gallery; galleries are uncommon, you see,
and you can get cracked doors anywhere. And, you know, he was
obliged to look at her when she couldn't see him, because their
fathers were on different sides in the war, and dreadful enemies."

When school-days came, matters went on much in the same way; there