"It's about time, I fancy," said Mr. Wesson, looking at his watch an
hour later, "that we were going in to dress for dinner."

Spennie made no reply. He was wrapped in thought.

"Let's see, that's twenty pounds you owe me, isn't it?" continued Mr.
Wesson. "No hurry, of course. Any time you like. Shocking bad luck you
had."

They went out into the rose garden.

"Jolly everything smells after the rain," said Mr. Wesson. "Freshened
everything up."

Spennie did not appear to have noticed it. He seemed to be thinking of
something else. His air was pensive and abstracted.




CHAPTER XIII.


The emotions of a man who has just proposed and been accepted are
complex and overwhelming. A certain stunned sensation is perhaps
predominant. Blended with this is relief, the relief of a general who
has brought a difficult campaign to a successful end, or of a member
of a forlorn hope who finds that the danger is over, and he is still
alive. To this must be added a newly born sense of magnificence, of