"Mother always likes a nap after lunch," said Christine laughing. "She
never will stir till she has had it."

"Very well; then you and I will go off somewhere together," said Jimmy
promptly. "At least"--he looked apologetically at Mrs. Wyatt--"if we
may?" he added.

"I think I can trust you with Christine," said Christine's mother.
"But you'll be in to tea?"

Jimmy promised. He did not really want to take Christine out. He did
not really want to do anything. He talked to Mrs. Wyatt while
Christine put on her hat and coat. When they left the hotel he asked
if she would like a taxi.

Christine laughed.

"Of course not. I love walking."

"Do you?" said Jimmy. He was faintly surprised. Cynthia would never
walk a step if she could help it. He pondered at the difference in the
two women.

They went to the Park. It was a fine, sunny afternoon, cold and crisp.

Christine wore soft brown furs, just the colour of her eyes, Jimmy
Challoner thought, and realised that her eyes would be very beautiful
to a man who liked dark eyes in preference to blue, but--thoughts of
Cynthia came crowding back again. If only he were with her instead of
this girl; if only---- Christine touched his arm.