up to the house. And Meg let down the slip-rail, put it back in
its place with trembling fingers, and fled in wild haste through
the two remaining paddocks.

The wattle-scrub at the end was very quiet; there was not a rustle,
not a sound of a voice, not a sound of the affected little laugh
that generally told when Aldith was near.

Meg stopped breathless, and peered among the bushes; there was a
tall figure leaning against the fence.

"Andrew!" she said in a sharp whisper, and forgetting in her
anxiety that she never called him by his Christian name--"where
are the others? Hasn't Aldith come?"

There was the smell of a cigar, and, looking closely, she saw to
her horror it was Alan.

"Oh!" she said, in an indescribable tone.

Her heart gave one frightened, shamed bound, and then seemed
to stop beating altogether.

She looked up, at him as if entreating him not to have too bad an
opinion of her; but his face wore the contemptuous look she had
grown to dread and his lips were finely curled.

"I--I only came out for a little walk; it is such a beautiful
evening," she said, with miserable lameness; and then in a tone
of justification she added, "it's my father's paddock, too."