Hotel

Stardust

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Limited Vintage Editioncopy of Hotel Stardust

BY SUSAN BARRIE

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'Suppose he doesn't want to marry me?"

'He does. ” Roger Merlin was about to add, “Any manwould! ” but stopped himself. “Look at you, ” he said. “ Thechatelaine of Treloan! Do you intend to marry him?”

“Marry him? ” True, Martin Pope was a hotel guest not to beignored. He was attractive-and a millionaire. He did want tohelp her out, but he hadn't proposed marriage. “I haven'tgiven the matter serious thought, ” she said.

'But you will, won't you?” He moved abruptly over to her andbending forward drew Eve to her feet.

'Since you most certainly will, and since I'd like you toremember me, here is a souvenir.” Before she couldprevent him, Roger had drawn her into his arms, bent hisdark head and claimed her soft mouth with his lips.

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QUIET HEART 1168-ROSE IN THE BUD 1189-ACCIDENTAL BRIDE 1221-MASTER OF MELINCOURT1259-WILD SONATA 1311-THE MARRIAGE WHEEL1359-RETURN TO TREMARTH 1428-NIGHT OF THESINGING BIRDS 1526-BRIDE IN WAITING 2240-VICTORIA AND THE NIGHTINGALE

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Hole! Stardust

by

SUSAN BARRIE

Harlequin Books

TORONTO LONDON NEW YORK AMSTERDAM

SYDNEY • HAMBURG • PARIS • STOCKHOLM Originalhardcover edition published in 1955 by Mills & Boon

Limited

ISBN 0-373-00831-7

Harlequin edition published June 1964 under the title Hotelat Treloan Second printing July 1964 Third printing August1964 Fourth printing March

1980

Copyright 1955 by Susan Barrie.

Philippine copyright 1980. Australian copyright 1980.

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, thereproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part inany form by any electronic, mechanical or other means,now known or hereafter invented, including xerography,photocopying and recording, or in any information storageor retrieval system, is forbidden without the permission ofthe publisher. All the characters in this book have noexistence outside the imagination of the author and have norelation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name ornames. They are not even distantly inspired by anyindividual known or unknown to the author, and all theincidents are pure invention.

The Harlequin trademark, consisting of the wordHARLEQUIN and the portrayal of a Harlequin, is registeredin the United States Patent Office and in the Canada Trade

Marks Office.

Printed in Canada

CHAPTER ONE

M R . GRIMSHAW, of Messrs. Grimshaw, Gilchrist& Grimshaw, long established in Lincoln's Inn, folded hishands on his desk and looked across the top of it a littleunbelievingly at his client.

''So you entirely refuse even to consider Mr. Merlin’s offer?If I may say so, an extraordinarily generous offer!”

Eve Petherick crushed out in an ash-tray at her elbow theend of the cigarette he had offered her when she enteredhis office barely ten minutes ago, and nodded her headquite decidedly.

“Yes; I’m afraid I do.”

“Although you realize that it may not be repeated? Andeven if it is — I doubt whether he will offer more.”

“I don’t wish him to offer more. I don’t wish to sell to him.”

“I see.” He studied her as if he could not quite make her out,although she was admittedly a most attractive subject forprolonged and thoughtful scrutiny. She had the kind of hairwhich the painter Titian had made famous in his day and

which was inclined to curl naturally, and the perfect, smooth,pale complexion which usually went with it. Her eyes weregrey as wood smoke and unusually serene behind theirlong eyelashes, and she had a little chin which he wouldhave described as obstinate, particularly as her mouth wasslightly obstinate, too. But it was a really lovely mouth, andhe even thought of it as faintly flowerlike, as it was not veryheavily made-up. She was neat and trim in a tailored outfit,and she managed to convey an impression of being quietlycapable. “I see,” he repeated more slowly.

But the trouble was he did not see at all, as Eve realized,and it made her feel vaguely irritated as he pushed the boxof cigarettes he had offered her before across the desk inher direction, and she shook her head. She was anxious tobring the interview to a close.

“I don’t wish to sell to anyone,’’ she told him firmly. “I haven’tyet seen Treloan, but when I have — and certainly notbefore! — I shall make up my mind what I will do with it.”

“But by that time it may be too late,” he pointed out. “Mr.Roger Merlin may have withdrawn his offer.”

She shrugged slightly. Her shoulders were very slim, andher whole figure as slight and graceful as a willow-wand.

“In that case it won't matter in the least, but if he wants it asbadly as you say and his offer indicates, he will be willing to

wait a few weeks. Presumably he has already waited quitea long time for my uncle to die. And if my uncle refused tosell to him, there is no

reason that I can think of why I should do so.”

“Can't you?” He looked at her with a faintly humorous gleamin his eyes. “Well, I can think of one very good one! Youruncle was a rich man — a very, very rich man! He was in aposition to defy anybody and anything. But apart fromleaving you five hundred a year and the house, he did littleto make your position so secure — unless you dispose ofthe house! Have you any conception, I wonder, of the sizeof the place? It is not just a house, it is a manor-house, anda very stately manor-house at that. I have stayed there, andits gardens extend right to the very edge of the cliffs. It isquite famous in the district, and that is one reason why Mr.Merlin wishes to acquire it. He is quite a well-knownhotelier, and the Stark Point Hotel, on the other arm of thebay, is his property, run very successfully, I believe.”

Eve did not seem impressed.

“In that case, he can leave me Treloan,” she said, a demuredimple appearing suddenly at one corner of her mouth.

Mr. Grimshaw looked at her for a moment in silence, andthen shook his head disapprovingly; but decided to yieldthe point, for the time being at least.

“Well, what, exactly, do you propose to do?” he asked. “Areyou going down to Cornwall to look at the house? And if so,how are you off for funds? I can advance you anything yourequire at the moment, you know.”

But she shook her head, smiling now.

“Thank you, but I have a little money of my own saved up.I’ve got quite a good job, you know” — he did know that,although she only looked about twenty-one but mightpossibly have been between twenty-four or five, she hadmanaged to acquire a degree at London University, andwas History Mistress at a girls’ school in the South of

England----“and I’m not exactly destitute. But Uncle Hilary’sfive

hundred a year is going to come in very handy.”

“It won’t go far,” he warned her, “if you start spending it onTreloan.”

“I wouldn’t be so foolish,” she assured him, displaying somany more attractive dimples — which made her smile athing to watch for — that he was inclined to overlook herobstinacy. Until she added: “I’d be much more inclined tomake Treloan do something for me.”

“Eh?” he exclaimed. “If you’re beginning to get ideas in yourhead, believe me they won’t work.”

“But Mr. Merlin has ideas in his head,” she reminded himsoftly.

“Mr. Merlin has capital, any amount of it.”

“And I have Treloan! And I believe there are such things asmortgages?”

“There are,” he agreed, “but you’d be very unwise if youtried to raise one on Treloan. I know what I’m talking about,and I assure you the sensible course is to sell.” “Very well,”she soothed him gently, “we’ll see. Later on! But in themeantime, may I please have the key of my — property . . .?”

Later in the day she sent a telegram to her Aunt Kate. AuntKate, living in a cottage on the rim of the Devil’s PunchBowl in Surrey, was at first greatly surprised by thetelegram, and then hastened to pack a suitcase and lockup the cottage for an absence of she knew not how long.She pinned a note to the door for the milkman, and anotherfor the boy who delivered the papers, and then, putting onSarah's harness (Sarah was a dachshund, growing very fatand inclined to sniff at ankles she did not like the look of),took a taxi to the station, from whence she journeyed bytrain and another taxi to Paddington. And at Paddingtonshe caught sight of her niece examining the magazines onthe bookstall, and looking very trim and spring-like in a newclear-green suit and hat to match.

clear-green suit and hat to match.

Aunt Kate, who had not bothered very much about thespring, wore the kind of hat she loved best; it sat well downon her head, and was adorned with a feather of doubtfulorigin. Her thick tweed costume had already served her forseveral winters, and was growing a little tight round hermiddle and unfashionably short in the skirt, but her face,with its healthy out-of-doors complexion, was beaming. Hereyes lighted up when her niece came towards her, and shehanded over Sarah automatically.

“She's such a weight,” she exclaimed, “but I had to bringher. What’s all this about going to Cornwall? I went thereonce when I nearly got engaged to a person, but his sisterand I couldn’t agree, so I went home again.”

In the train, in their corner of a first-class compartment —Eve had felt she might justifiably be extravagant for once —Eve explained the whole situation to her-aunt, and the latterlistened without betraying much astonishment. She uttereda few terse comments on the subject of Hilary Petherickwhen the story had come to an end, however.

“How exactly like that unpleasant old man,” she declared,“to leave you a house and practically no money to supportit! And him simply rolling in ill-gotten wealth! Who gets therest of his fortune, anyway?”

“I think most of it was left to charities,” Eve explained. Aunt

Kate sniffed, quite unimpressed.

“With the least charitable of motives, or I never knew HilaryPetherick. Why, when your father, his only brother, marriedyour mother, he lent them Treloan for a fortnight for theirhoneymoon it's true, but the only wedding- present he gavethem was a Crown Derby tea-service which was laterproved to be a clever imitation. And after that I don’t thinkthey ever had a word from him, although there were timeswhen it was almost more than they could do to scrapetogether your school fees.”

“But at least he has left me Treloan,” Eve said, with a queerlittle smile of satisfaction in her eyes.

“But you’d have been much better off if he’d left you adecent lump sum of money! However, I expect you’ll sell it?You couldn’t possibly hang on to it in these days of noservants and fantastic charges for practically everything,even running a three-bed roomed cottage! And, in anycase, nobody lives in a big house nowadays. They're nolonger even fashionable. It’s much more fashionable tooccupy a mews flat.”

“Is it?” Eve murmured, and gazed out of the window at thepageant of spring through which the train was carrying themat impressive speed. Apple orchards fell away from themon both sides, drifts of roaming pink and white blossomwhich made the blue sky look like a sheet of blue gauze

stretched above, and the purple of lilac and the gold oflaburnum formed a colorful chain across the width ofEngland. And the trees were already thick with leaf, and thefields were green after the winter rains, and the cottagesand farms all looked like toys set against a backcloth ofinfinite charm and allure.

It was the best of England they were seeing and from thecomfort of a first-class compartment on an express train,and Eve thought that her uncle had chosen precisely theright season in which to depart this life and leave her toinherit his house, which she had never seen but where herparents had spent their honeymoon. For in the WestCountry, to which they were headed, spring would be evenfarther advanced, and who knew what surprises might lie instore for her? And Aunt Kate, now thoroughly prepared toenjoy an unexpected holiday! And as she chattered onabout the advisability of doing this, that, and the other, andSarah slumbered noisily beneath the seat, and theattendant came and brought them coffee and biscuits whichAunt Kate dispatched with gusto, for she had not stoppedfor any breakfast, Eve lay back against the seat andthought and thought again of the dream she had had a littleover a week ago, before news of her sudden good fortunehad reached her.

She had been walking along a cliff path in country entirelynew to her, and from somewhere far below had come thesound of the sea. The atmosphere had been far from clear

— in fact, a kind of dream haze had hung over everything— and a sensation of acute unreality had had her in its grip.And then all at once she had caught sight of the chimneysand the roof-line of a house, and then the vague shape ofthe house itself had risen up before her. It was surroundedby gardens which sloped to the cliff edge, and it had somuch charm and beauty about it that it had made her feelstrangely excited. She had groped her way along the pathsto reach it, but the swirling mist had come down and shut itout from her sight, and only the mournful surge of the sea —still so very far below — had sounded in her ears. And shehad awakened feeling bitterly disappointed because thehouse had vanished and she would never find it again.

But the letter, a few days later, from Mr. Grimshaw, ofMessrs. Grimshaw, Gilchrist & Grimshaw, set herwondering. . . .

Aunt Kate approved of the lunch served in the dining- car,and by the time they reached Truro she was in high holidayfettle. She had ceased to wonder whether the milkmanwould discover the note pinned to the back door of hercottage, and whether by any unfortunate chance thenewspaper boy would miss his and go on deliveringnewspapers. If he did they would look rather funny alljammed into the letter-box and decorating the front-doorstep, and they would surely prove an inducement toburglars to burgle the house. But by the time she steppedout of the train, and they discovered a hire-car to convey

them the rest of their journey still farther west, her mood ofcomplacency was so great that even the news of a burglarywould scarcely have upset her at that moment.

Aunt Kate was one of those people who believed inenjoying life even in adversity, and she had an almostchildish love of excitement and the unusual, whenever itpresented itself. At the same time she never complainedabout monotony. She was kind-hearted to a degree, had asense of humor which clung to her always, and was at alltimes solidly dependable. And those were the reasons whyher niece, Eve, had been devoted to her from her earliestdays, and why, just as soon as she thought of journeyinginto Cornwall, the thought of Aunt Kate as the mostsatisfactory companion for the journey had leaped quitenaturally into her mind.

And Aunt Kate, of course, had been only too willing tooblige!

Their luggage was piled on the back of the car and theydrove off into the mellow light of early evening. In a shortwhile now,

Eve thought, she would see Treloan.

CHAPTER TWO

BUT the light was dying out of the sky and the stars wereappearing over the sea when they arrived at the inn where

Eve had booked accommodation for one night, and thereseemed little chance of seeing Treloan that night. As for thevillage of Treloan — or as much as could be seen of it whiletheir suitcases were being carried inside by the proprietorhimself who, finding business slack as yet, regarded themwith particular favor — it was merely a huddle of cottages,with the inn in the centre, running round the sides of asheltered cove where the tide lapped softly.

During dinner Eve questioned the innkeeper, who came tofind out whether the dinner was entirely satisfactory, on thesubject of Treloan Manor, and he told her that the best wayto approach it was over the cliffs, although there was a roadinland which was inclined to by-pass it a little but waseasier walking. The distance in either case was about amile and a half. If she wanted a car he could drive her therehimself.

He looked at her rather curiously as she sat finishing herice, her hair like autumn beech-leaves shining in thesubdued rays of the ship’s lantern that was suspended fromthe great central beam which crossed the ceiling and hadprobably once formed part of a ship’s timbers itself. Therewas something about her which reminded him of old Mr.Petherick who had died up at Treloan — particularly thecool glance from level-eyes. Although old Mr. Petherick hadbeen notably bad-tempered and many people would havesaid worse things than that of him during his latter years, atleast he was never afraid of anyone and there had been just

that faint air of challenge in his look. Only this girl’s look wasalso soft, like grey velvet, and she had a charming smile.But there was the similarity of the name.

He went away back to his bar, which was beginning to fillwith evening customers, turning the matter over in his mind,and he wished he had had the temerity to ask her outright.For it was quite possible she was the old man's niece, andin that case it would be interesting to know what she wasgoing to do with Treloan.

Eve and her aunt took their coffee in the small inn parlor,and then Aunt Kate began to nod a little over an ancientcopy of Punch, and at last it was as much as she could doto keep awake at all. The combined effects of a longjourney and a dinner which included roast goose werebeginning to tell, and at last Eve suggested to her that shewent to bed.

Aunt Kate looked relieved.

“I will, if you don’t mind,” she said. “It must be the Cornishair.” But it was a long time since she had tasted such asucculent portion of goose as that which had accompaniedthe apple-sauce on her plate in the dining room, or toppedit off with such an out-size icecream on which the realcream had floated in great puffs.

Eve went up with her to get her coat, having determined to

take a short stroll before retiring to bed. During dinner shehad seen through the window that the moon had risen andwas bathing the sea in a silver flood, and the murmur of theincoming tide had affected her pulses in a curious way. Shewanted to get down to the water’s edge and watch it curlinggently on the smooth, soft sand, and look up at the starrywidth of the sky and the giant cliffs which shut in the cove.

Although it was only March, the night air was soft. She couldfeel it caressing her face, and the salt smell of the sea waspleasant and, somehow, vaguely exciting.

There seemed to be no one about but herself, althoughfrom the windows of the inn yellow light streamed, and awireless set was playing dance music. It was a little toolively to fit in with the placid beauty of the night, but itprevented her from feeling too lonely down there on theedge of the shore.

She saw one or two people leave the inn and one or twoothers arrived. And then a large and glistening car drew upbefore the porch. It was so large, and the moonlight madeof it such a sumptuous spectacle, that Eve was a littlesurprised. Were these already holiday-makers, or was itsome local resident bringing a party of friends to TheSmuggler, as it was called?

At least half a dozen smartly dressed people descendedfrom the car. Eve could see the women’s dresses gleaming

softly in the moonlight, and there were short fur capes andat least one full-length- fur coat. The men appeared to beless formally attired, in blazers and flannel trousers, andone had a noticeable white choker about his neck.

When they had gone inside, Eve realized that the night windwas rather cool after all. She started to move about morebriskly for another quarter of an hour, and then returned tothe inn also.

As she put out her hand to thrust open the door someonewhose object seemed to be departure wrenched it from hergrasp, and, temporarily thrown off her balance, shestumbled forward right

into the arms of the man with the white choker wound abouthis throat.

“I’m so sorry!” she gasped, apologizing instinctively. But thenext moment she drew back and almost recoiled from him,for his eyes were blazing with unconcealed irritation andimpatience.

“It's always a good thing to refrain from being precipitate,”he said coldly, as he steadied her. “And coming inout of thedarkness you ought to make allowance for the suddenbrightness of the lights.”

“But you pulled the door out of my hand!” she accused him,feeling a rising spurt of anger on her own account. “And it’s

you who should make allowance for the fact that anyonecoming in here is not to know that a tornado is approachingfrom the other side of the door!”

“Really?” His dark eyebrows elevated themselves as helooked directly down at her — for the first time with acertain amount of interest in what he saw. He was, orseemed to her to be, immensely tall; his shoulders werearrogantly well-set, and he was lean and narrow-hipped. Hehad an almost swarthy face, and something like a scarwhich travelled from one corner of his mouth to a corner ofa thick black eyebrow. His eyes were almost piercingly andchallengingly blue. “Really?” he repeated. “It’s the first timein my life that I’ve been likened to a tornado, but in thecourse of a not uneventful career I have several timesencountered them in various corners of the globe.”

His voice held a mocking, jibing note, and Eve glanced athim with a feeling of acute and positive dislike. Shedecided he was not worth wasting any more words on, andswept past him into the hall and upstairs to her room. Butbefore she had set foot on the first two stairs a girl camequickly from the bar on her right, and stood gazing up at herin mild astonishment. She was quite definitely belowmedium height and as slender as an elf; she wore a dressof drifting white tulle which was almost as simple as aschool-girl’s party frock, and her hair hung in a pale goldenbob to her shoulders. The eyes with which she surveyedEve, ascending the stairs in a kind of cold fury, were huge

and deep like violets.

“It is some kind of contretemps?' she inquired in a husky,amused voice of the man who had shaken Eve's calm.“Rogaire, what is it that you have been doing ?”

Eve was moving too fast to catch Rogaire's answer, butshe heard the girl laugh as she reached the first landing,and venturing to look down quickly she saw her link herhand in his arm. He appeared to

tower above her.

A gentle, tinkling laugh was borne upwards.

“Oh, Rogaire, sometimes you are quite impossible, andeven I find it hard to forgive you when you — what is it youEnglish say? — tread upon my corns so hard that I wish tobite! But I do not bite!” in the honeyed accent which alwaysrecalled for him Paris when the leaves were just appearingon the trees after a particularly hard winter and the sun wasshining in the Champs-Elysees, and the Seine flowedsleepily. . . . “Of course I do not bite!”

The tinkling laugh came again, and she drew him towardsthe entrance.

“You have not yet recovered my handbag from the seat ofthe car, so we will go together to look for it, n'est-ce pas?And the others they are all so occupied in the bar and the

night it is full of moonlight, and so I think. . . .” What shethought she whispered to him, putting her head very closeto his arm so that the long golden hair fell against hissleeve, and her great, shadowy eyes gazed up at him withsomething that was a mixture of provocation andtemptation and innocent expectation in their depths.

But the provocation was the most noticeable of all threeingredients.

Upstairs in her room, which happened to be in the front ofthe house, Eve heard the car start up, and saw it glide awayfrom the shadow of The Smuggler, and she realized that itwas a very expensive car indeed, but the man who wasdriving it was probably the most unpleasant she had evermet.

In the morning she asked the landlord, whose namehappened to be Geake, where the large party came fromwho very neatly filled his small bar the previous evening,and he answered:

“Oh, you mean Commander Merlin and his friends? Theycame over from the Stark Point Hotel. Commander Merlinowns the Stark Point — biggest hotel around here, andwhat you might call fashionable. But the Commander’s veryfond of the old Smuggler, and he likes to pay it a visitsometimes. He’s not stuck up like some of them —particularly some of those he brings with him! — even

although he owns at least half a dozen hotels, including oneor two on the Continent.”

Eve gazed at him with her cool, quiet eyes. Aunt Kate wasstill finishing her breakfast.

“Is he a local man?” she asked.

“Why, bless yer soul, yes, miss, born and bred in this part ofthe world. The Stark Point was once his home, only in thosedays it was called Stark Place. His parents were prettycomfortably off when he was a lad, but by the time he cameout of the Navy after the war, they was finding it pretty muchof a job to make ends meet. And he decided to go in forhotel-keeping. He’s a wonderful record of wartime service— submarines, you know, and a D.S.O. and Bar, and Idon’t know what else. We were all very proud of him aroundhere, and wished him the best of luck when he turned theold place into the Stark Point. And now he can’t go wrong.He just keeps adding them to his list like beads to anecklace, as you might say.”

“Well, at least he won’t add Treloan to his necklace!” Eveassured herself almost fiercely. “Whatever happens, I’ll seehe never does that!”

CHAPTER THREE

AS a concession to Aunt Kate, who was not very anxious totry cliff climbing so soon after their arrival, she allowed Mr.

Geake to drive them to Treloan for their first inspection ofthe place. The road, as he had explained to her, madequite a wide detour before it brought them within sight of apair of curly, wrought-iron gates, beyond which was adignified avenue leading to the house itself. The avenuewas bordered by trees, still somewhat bare of leaf, but inthe grass beneath them daffodils danced in a stiff Marchbreeze. Looking rather eagerly to right and left as theyproceeded in Mr. Geake’s rather antiquated vehiclebetween the well-grown trunks, Eve thought the gardens,which extended on either hand and which appeared to becomposed chiefly of lawns and shrubberies, were a littleovergrown, as if they had not had much care expended onthem in recent weeks. And even the daffodils were not thefine specimens so rich a man as her uncle might have beenexpected to allow to adorn the approach to his residence.

But a sudden bend brought them within sight of the houseitself, fronted by a terrace decorated with stone vases.Eve’s heart leaped within her as she noted that it was whiteand gracious and Georgian, its entrance flanked bygraceful Corinthian pillars, and its windows all beautifullyspaced and dignified.

Whatever the present condition of the grounds the housewas something to charm the eye immediately, and was amonument to the excellent taste of its designer. It had thetranquillity of an age when tranquillity was much more easilycome by, combined with the spacious elegance of the

same period.

With the remembrance of her dream pressing closely uponher, Eve felt anxious to view it from its opposite front —from the sea side. The atmosphere was as clear as a belltoday, with pale sky and sunshine, and despite the swirlingmists in her dream she felt that she might be able torecognize — something at least!

And if she did, what, precisely, would that mean? What kindof an interpretation would one whose business was theunravelling of the mysterious significance of dreams placeupon it? Would he or she tell her that it was because hermother and father had spent their honeymoon in the house?Because she had often, and in secret, thought aboutTreloan but believed she would never see it? Because itwas so soon to be in her possession?

And now that it was in her possession, how was she tokeep it? How could she endure to give Mr. Grimshaw theword to go ahead and sell it?

She stood looking up at the front of the house and biting herlip, while behind her Aunt Kate sought to extricate Sarahfrom the back of Mr. Geake’s car and a savory smell of shotrabbit which seemed to cling to it. And Mr. Geake coughedonce or twice before he asked her at what time she wishedhim to come and collect her.

“I’ll ring the inn and let you know,” she told him, smiling, forshe was determined not to have her inspection cut short byany impatience on his part, and he went away thinking thatit was a good thing he had had the idea of tipping the winkto Commander Merlin, for there was now no doubt about it— she was old Petherick’s niece all right! She was the newowner of Treloan!

“Is there anyone at all living in the house now?’' Aunt Kateinquired, in a kind of awed whisper, as she followed herniece into the wide, white-panelled hall with its beautiful fan-shaped staircase. The whisper seemed to come back ather uncannily from the silent, dust-sheeted rooms on eitherside of them, and she picked up Sarah and tucked herfirmly under her arm because she had been about toconduct an investigation for rats amongst the pieces ofobviously choice furniture.

“No one,” Eve answered her, her clear voice echoing evenmore loudly and decisively beneath the slightly vaultedceiling. “But there’s a couple who live in the lodge, and theman once acted as gardener, and the woman comes inonce or twice a week to clean.”

“If you ask me,” Aunt Kate gave it as her opinion as shestared around, “you’ll require a whole regiment of women tocome in and clean if you ever think of keeping on thisplace!”

Eve did not answer her this time. She went forward and ledthe way through what had once been used as the drawingroom. It reminded Aunt Kate of a State Apartment, becauseof the wide white Adam fireplace, the huge windows, andthe carved and gilded ceiling. The walls of the library werelined with books, some of which were probably valuable,and the dining-room was truly noble. Aunt Kate knew shecould never possibly eat in comfort off the tremendous areaof polished rosewood table which matched the perfectRegency sideboard and the upright Regency chairs.

But Eve, absorbing so many impressions all at once, knewexactly why it was that Roger Merlin was so bent uponpossessing himself of Treloan and turning it into an hotel. Itwas the one house in a million, set in exactly the right spot,and equipped in an almost perfect fashion, to make a largeincome for a clever hotelier.

A clever hotelier. But other people, without the benefit of somuch experience, had been known to run hotelssuccessfully!

They were in the kitchen now, large, modern, andconvenient, with every type of labor-saving device, and sheturned to her aunt like one who was not merely inspired bywhat she had just seen, but had received confirmation of aprevious, half-born idea.

“Aunt Kate!” she exclaimed. “We’ll do it! We’ll run it as an

hotel!” Aunt Kate sat down at the kitchen table and allowedSarah to go wherever she wanted to.

“My dear,” she said rather feebly, “it’s a bit large, isn’t it?And who will you get to run it?”

“We’ll run it between us,” Eve told her, her eyes glistening.“With the help of one or two others, of course,” she added.

“Darling,” Aunt Kate said gently, “it must be close uponlunchtime, and you're probably feeling hungry. I know I am.Do you think there’s any food in the larder?”

But Eve was not to be side-tracked.

“I’ve made up my mind,” she asserted firmly. “Somehow —somehow — I’ll do it! I won’t sell! I absolutely refuse to sell,and wild horses wouldn’t make me hand over this propertyto that detestable Commander Merlin. He tried to get UncleHilary to sell to him, but Uncle Hilary had more sense, andnow I know why he left it to me! ’llmake a success of it!”

“Yes, my love, so you said before,” Aunt Kate agreedplacidly; “but not until we’ve had some lunch. . . . And who,by the way, is Commander Merlin?” with sudden curiosity.

“Some wretched local man, with an enlarged sense of hisown importance, who thinks he knows all about the runningof hotels,” Eve informed her scathingly.

A sudden summons at the front-door bell caused them bothto jump quite violently, and Sarah came tearing from thelarder and set up a noisy barking. Eve and her auntexchanged glances, and Eve stooped and picked up theoverfed dachshund and tucked her under her arm, even asher aunt had done.

“I’ll go and see who it is,” she said quietly.

Somehow the summons was eerie in that vast emptyhouse, and the feel of Sarah, despite her completeineffectualness, was comforting. But no sooner was thefront door opened, and it was revealed that a tall man stoodthere, dressed in a grey suit and a Cambridge-blue silkshirt and darker blue flowing tie, with an air of coolcondescension and almost fiercely blue eyes, than Sarahwriggled herself free from the restriction imposed by Eve’sarm and began to fawn upon him.

Disgusted, Eve called her back.

“Sarah!”

But Commander Merlin had already picked Sarah up in hisarms and was making a great fuss of her, and Sarahresponded by almost frantically licking every available inchof his face.

“Good dogs, these,” the black-haired, arrogant malecommented. “Quite a safe breed. I had a couple myself

once, but I go in nowadays for bulldogs. Unfortunatelythey’re getting rather rare, which happens when a strainachieves perfection. And as a sideline I’m rather fond ofSiamese cats “

“Really?” Eve said coldly, interrupting him. “And do I take itthat you came all the way up here to discuss your favoritepets with me? Or was there, perhaps, some other reason?”

“As a matter of fact, there was,” he told her at once, quitebluntly, although there was something rather like a twinkle inhis sea-blue eyes, particularly as they roved over her,taking in all the slender defiance of her attitude.

“In that case, I’d better ask you to come in,” she said.

“It would be more convenient,” he agreed, and strodewithout more ado into the very centre of the hall.

There he put back his head and stood looking up at, andobviously admiring, the beauties of the ceiling. She thoughtthat his expression became one of reverence as he gazed.

“What craftsmanship!” he exclaimed. “What exquisite .workmanship! Look at that cornice!” He indicated it with hishand, lean, brown, and virile. “That is the work of theyounger Adam brother himself, not one of his pupils. Andyou can recognize the master’s touch in those twisted vineleaves, and that perfect archway. And as for the staircase.

. . . But perhaps I’m boring you?” turning to follow her as shestarted to lead the way towards the drawing-room, whereshe stripped the dust-covers from two Louis Quinze chairsand offered one to him to sit down.

“Not at all,” she answered coolly. “I have some slightknowledge myself of the Adam period.”

He looked at her, she thought, sceptically. His fingers werecaressing the back of the Louis Quinze chair, and it wasquite plain to her that he had a great passion for antiquity.

“I don’t know whether you realize,” he said without furtherpreamble, “that the offer I made to you through yoursolicitors did not include all this furniture? But I will add tothe offer here and now if you will agree to let the house goas it stands.”

She shook her head, an inscrutable little smile on her lips.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not interested in your offer.”

He regarded her with an expression of carefullysummoned-up patience. She was wearing a dress ofprimrose linen beneath a light grey coat, and her hair hungcurling almost to her shoulders and had the color ofchestnut buds about to burst. Her eyes were serene andgrey and baffling behind their fringes of abnormally longeyelashes, and she was incredibly slight and dainty, almostfragile — and yet the curve of her lips betokened

unshakable firmness once her mind was made up!

“Miss Petherick,” he began again abruptly, “perhaps I’dbetter introduce myself formally. My name is Merlin —Roger Merlin.” “And when did you learn that mine isPetherick?” she asked.

“Oh, that was simple,” he answered coolly. “Old Geakefound that out almost as soon as you arrived yesterday, andI had only to take one look at you to recognize oldPetherick's eyes. You’re his niece all right! I only hope fromthe bottom of my heart that you’re going to be considerablyeasier to deal with than your uncle, for he wasted more ofmy time than I find it possible to forgive him, even now.”“Really?” she murmured, as if surprised. “Then I’m afraid I'mgoing to be a great disappointment to you also, for myviews on Treloan Manor are exactly the same as myuncle’s. I do not intend to part with it.”

“No?” He elevated an unbelieving eyebrow. “Then what willyou do with it?”

“I haven't made up my mind yet,” she answered untruthfully,“but I could try living in it.”

“You could,” he agreed very smoothly, “but unless you've asmall private fortune of your own, you’ll find it a littleexpensive. Houses

of this type are rather costly to maintain.”

“I expect so,” she agreed, as if undisturbed by the thought,“but it might help matters if I ran it as a guesthouse — or anhotel!”

He sat down in the chair she had placed for him and restedhis elbows on the fragile arms, putting the extreme tips ofhis fingers together. The rather ugly scar running from thecorner of his mouth to the tip of his right eyebrow became,all in a moment, much more noticeable, as if the muscles ofhis face had tautened a little, and he regarded her throughnarrowed eyes which contained all at once a rather sinisterchill, like the chill of northern ice floes.

“Listen to me, Miss Petherick,” he requested her curtly: “Ihave already made you a very fair offer for this place —much more than I made to your uncle, because I knew hewas a rich man. But I happen to be very well aware of thefact that you are not a rich girl.” He dismissed her faint lookof astonishment with an impatient movement of his hands.“Oh, never mind how I know these things — I simply knowthem, and that’s all there is to it! But from your point of viewmy offer should have been very tempting. I will make it evenmore tempting, and you will be extremely unwise if you turnit down, for you will never get a better.”

Eve felt the anger she had been trying to suppress begin torise in her again at the uncompromising tone in which headdressed her. The night before she had taken a dislike to

him, but now she felt that her dislike was increased athousand fold. His manners were the manners of a boor,and he was the most self-centred and egotistical personshe had ever met. No wonder her uncle had sent him abouthis business!

“Listen to me, Commander Merlin,” she requested him inher turn, striving to keep her voice very level and quiet. “If Icame to you at the Stark Point Hotel and tried to persuadeyou — very much against your will! — to sell to me, and if Ikept on pestering and bothering you, as you are pesteringand bothering me, what would you do?

I think if I was a man you would throw me out! But, in anycase, you would not agree to sell, would you?”

“No,” he answered crisply, “because, for one thing, it’s myhome, and always has been my home, but today is the firsttime you’ve even seen this house. I don't believe you eversaw your uncle, and hecertainly couldn’t remember whatyou looked like, and the situation therefore is entirelydifferent. You have no roots — nothing to chain you here!You are, if you'll forgive me for saying so, an outsider andan intruder, whereas I have known and loved this place fromboyhood. Now will you consider my offer?”

“Never,” she told him in a choked voice.

“Not even if I become really rash and double it?”

“Under no circumstances” she got out, with scarlet cheeks,her breath coming a little unevenly and her small breastsheaving. “Not for all the money in the world!”

“You have no use for money?”

“Not yours!”

“You prefer to consider running an hotel on next door tonothing a year? Which will be almost as clever as snatchingthe stars out of the sky! ”

While his eyebrows were still cocked upwards sarcasticallyand his eyes were filled with sardonic humor, the door wassuddenly pushed inwards and Aunt Kate appeared. Shehad been eavesdropping without any thought or scrupleoutside the door for the past ten minutes, and now it hadoccurred to her that it was time to intervene.

“Forgive me, Commander Merlin,” she almost gushed, “forbreaking in on you like this, but I feel that you might to knowthat my niece is not quite a free agent in so far as Treloanis concerned. I have persuaded her to run it as an hotel,and I am backing her in the enterprise. I feel we shall have atremendous success.”

“I’m sorry, madam,” he said very stiffly, rising from his chair,“but I don’t think I have the honor of knowing who you are?”

“Miss Petherick’s aunt,” she told him, “on the maternal side,

you know. Katherine Barton's the name.” She held out afriendly hand, and he knew himself forced to take it.“Delighted to meet you, Commander Merlin. We mustcompare notes on the successful running of hotels!”

When he had gone, excusing himself with almost painfulabruptness, Eve stood looking out of the window andthinking of him making his way to his car with a kind ofdeadly frustrated anger in his heart. His feelings towardsherself and her aunt must be tainted with venom. Butsomething in his face, before he left, had told her that hewas the victim of acute disappointment as well, and it wasso intense that she could feel almost sorry for him. To havewanted a thing so long and so badly, and to know now thatit was not to be his!

If he had even approached her in a different manner — if hehad not said quite such insufferable things to her! Tellingher that she had no right — no roots!

“A most unpleasant type of arrogant male,” Aunt Kateobserved, when they caught the sound of his car drawingaway from the foot of the terrace steps. “I felt that it was onlyright to squash him, I simply had to squash him! And what’smore I will back you with every single penny I possess!True, I’m not exactly a millionairess, but I've a few thingshere and there that I can sell out, and we might manage toraise a loan ------- ”

“Oh, Aunt Kate, you really are a lamb!” Eve turned to herand hugged her. “But, you know, we don’t either of us knowa thing about hotels, except what it’s like to stay in a cheapone occasionally.”

“This hotel will not be cheap,” Aunt Kate declaredemphatically. “We shall charge the earth for our rooms, andthat’s the way to become known. Elegance and comfortamid the charms of the Cornish Riviera. One of England’sstately homes on the very rim of the ocean; the beauties ofthe countryside combined with the blue English Channel!Oh, I could go on forever, only I'm feeling so very hungry Ithink I shall do better after we’ve had some lunch — if thereis anything to eat in the larder!”

But Eve was thinking:

Easier to snatch the stars out of the sky! . . . But if she couldsnatch them out of the sky, and if she could build up aprosperous and thriving hotel on nothing more substantialthan stardust (and Aunt Kate’s few stocks and shares!),what a triumph it would be! What a glorious triumph to flingin the face of Commander Roger Merlin, D.S.O. and Bar,and no doubt a few other odd distinctions as well!

CHAPTER FOUR

TOWARDS evening of that day, having telephoned TheSmuggler and asked Mr. Geake to send up the rest of their

luggage, Eve left Aunt Kate trying to make up her mindwhich corner of the mansion she could fit herself into andbe the least overawed by its grandeur, and did what shehad been badly wanting to do all day, namely go out into thegardens behind the house. And from there it was but a briefwalk to the edge of the cliff.

She looked back at the house. In the evening light it wasalmost exactly as she had seen it in her dream, save thatthere was now no mist to screen it from her sight. On thecontrary, it stood forth sharply against the rapidly palingblue of the sky, and the rosy glow of sunset was repeated inits rows of orderly windows. A single plume of smokeascended into the air above the kitchen quarters, for theyhad succeeded in getting the boiler to light, and theshadows of well-grown cedar trees lay across the slopinglawns. A solid bank of azaleas and rhododendrons comingearly into bloom shut off the kitchen-garden, and soon, Everealized, it would be a blaze of color, and the scent of theazaleas would reach even to the cliff edge where she wasstanding.

She looked down. It was a sheer drop to the rocks below

— unpleasant rocks like the pointed teeth of a monsteranimal. The sea seeped quietly in amongst them, and wasthe color of a smoky grey pearl in the softened light.

From where she stood she could see, a few yards farther

along the cliff, the beginnings of a somewhat perilous pathwhich led to a sheltered strip of sandy beach from which itwould be delightful to bathe on a warm day. And it would bedelightful to sun-bathe, too. Treloan had all the facilities of afirst-class holiday hotel combined with some grimlybeautiful surroundings, but somehow Eve could not see itas an hotel, only as the dream house she could never bearto part with — least of all to one man who had all butdemanded it from her!

She shielded her eyes from the sun's glare, and lookedacross the bay to that long arm of land, faintly hazy now,which shot out to terminate in Stark Point, and on whichwas the Stark Point Hotel. It was a truly magnificentheadland, and from all she had heard of the Stark PointHotel it was a truly magnificent hotel, catering only for thosewhose leisured hours were made possible by beingexceptionally well-to-do. During her one night at TheSmuggler she had seen an announcement, pinned to oneof the walls, of a Grand Opening Dance to mark thebeginning of the summer season, for during the winter, notaltogether surprisingly, the place was not so busy. And Mr.Geake had been loud in the praise he had bestowed onCommander Merlin’s most successful experiment so far.

But although Eve strained her eyes, seeking to defeat theglare of the sun, she could make out nothing beyond avague jumble of white and a few pin-points of diamond-bright light which might have been flung back from crystal-

clear windows, to indicate that there was any building ofany size on the headland.

Somewhat to her surprise, during the next few days AuntKate lost none of her enthusiasm for the plan which she hadso heartily agreed to sponsor, although the thought of hercosy Surrey cottage, shut up and waiting for her, must oftenhave tugged at her heartstrings when the size and theimpressiveness of Treloan Manor tended to be a littleoverpowering. They went from room to room inspecting allthe possibilities of every nook and corner, and were left toform the opinion that Hilary Petherick must have been oneof the world’s most conscientious sybarites. Wherever itwas possible to put in a bathroom he had put it in, and,moreover, they were sumptuous bathrooms, lavishlyequipped. The bedrooms were frequently divided intosuites, with dressing-room and private sitting-roomadjoining, and Aunt Kate thought they might ask almost anyfantastic price for the privilege of occupying one of them.And the view from the windows was certainly attractiveenough to entrance any guest in the summer-time.

But they would have to proceed slowly, Aunt Kate saidwisely. It was no use imagining that they could turn theplace into an hotel overnight, and they would have to becontent with a kind of guesthouse arrangement until theywere more sure of their own feet, merely inviting a fewcarefully selected—and therefore favored!— individuals toshare the amenities of Treloan for that first summer.

Fortunately the condition of decorative repair throughout thehouse was excellent, so there was nothing to do in thatdirection, but there was the question of staff to beconsidered, as well as a great many other things.

The downstairs rooms, for instance, were far too ornateand too full of valuable objects like the Louis Quinze chairsin the drawingroom, to be entirely suited even to a luxuryhotel, and so they decided to sell much of the rarer kind offurniture and replace it with something more practical. Onlythe dining-room was left as it was when they first saw it.Eve could not bear to separate that lovely rosewood tablefrom the equally lovely Regency sideboard, and it wasdecided that as a country-house background was one oftheir assets, the dining-room, with the addition of a fewsmaller tables in the great window and the various alcoves,was entirely right as it was.

The next item to be settled was how soon Eve should sendin her resignation to the school where she had taughthistory for over two years, and Aunt Kate was all for herdoing so without delay, maintaining that she could alwaysfind another job if the need arose. And then the question ofwhere their staff was to come from was a big one. AuntKate herself was going to act as housekeeper, and Evehad an old school friend who was out of a job, an excellentcook, with a Domestic Science degree, who she thoughtmight be willing to take over that department. And so a

telegram was dispatched to Chris Carpenter, snub-nosedand freckled, who responded immediately by saying thatshe’d be delighted and would be with them in a few days.

But a couple of really first-class chambermaids who couldalso act as housemaids, and at least one waitress, wereessential. The gardener had already been set to workrestoring some order to the lawns and shrubberies, whichapparently Uncle Hilary had not cared about so greatly asthe interior of his house, and his wife was willing to “oblige”in any way she was most needed in the kitchen.

Then there was the question of advertising, which AuntKate went into very seriously, and a car, without which theywould be lost, from the point of view of collecting stores, aswell as visitors from the station. Eve, who was very wellable to drive—in addition to making herself responsible forthe accounts, and the general management of the place,which might also involve the duties of a kind of hostess—consulted Tom Geake on the subject of buying a second-hand one. Tom Geake had a certain amount of sympathyfor “The Commander”, as he called him, not gettingTreloan, but he was also inclined to watch with amusementand speculation the next moves of the two very pleasantfemales—especially the younger one, who he thoughtdownright attractive—who had spend a night in his inn.

So he lost no time in putting Eve on to a reliable man inTruro, who soon found her the kind of car she wanted at the

price she wished to pay. It was not a handsome car, but itwent beautifully, and it was sufficiently roomy, and shedidn’t think it would break down as soon as she’d writtenthe cheque for it. Mr. Geake drove her into Truro on the daythat she was going to drive it out of the car salesroom, andin the afternoon she put it in the car-park while she didsome shopping.

It was market-day; the place was full, and so was the BlueBoar when she had lunch there. She spun out her shoppingbecause she was going to meet Chris Carpenter at thestation on the train which was due in at 4.20 p.m., andshortly before four o'clock she thought she might as welldrive to the station.

But the car-park was still wedged with cars, and her ownwas sandwiched between a farmer's shabby utility truckand a magnificent cream and silver affair which was themost striking car in the park. It would even have attractednotice outside the Dorchester in Park Lane, or so Evethought.

She maneuvered her car very gingerly away from the sideof the cream and silver prodigy, seeking also to avoid theutility truck, but, possibly because she hadn’t driven forsome little while—although her licence was without sign ofblemish—she accidentally caught the near wing of the bigcar an undeniable glancing blow. Biting her lip withannoyance, she got out to examine the damage, saw a

huge bulldog with a bored expression and great jaws thatwere inclined to drool a little surveying her from the backseat of the cream car, and then heard footstepsapproaching briskly.

There was the light tap-tapping of high heels and the firmercrunch of masculine feet, but when she turned the first thingshe actually saw was a Siamese kitten perched on theshoulder of the elfin girl with golden hair whom she hadseen for the first time in the hallway of The Smuggler inTreloan. The girl was wearing tailored slacks and a whitesweater, and her hair looked even more golden in thesunshine of afternoon. Beside her, to Eve’s infinite disgustand faint horror, considering what she had just done to hiscar, was Commander Merlin!

He was looking closely at Eve, but his look contained noactual recognition until she flushed up and addressed him,her voice hurried and apologetic:

“I'm so terribly sorry,” she got out, hoping the bill for thedamage would not be too enormous, just when they wantedevery penny they possessed—“but I’ve had an accident toyour car!” She indicated the once faultlessly beautiful wing.“I’m afraid I was guilty of a slight miscalculation. . . .”

Her voice trailed off.

He went closer to the damage and inspected it, while the

goldenhaired girl with the French accent peeredinterestedly over his shoulder, and then looked at Eve witha faint twinkle dancing in her eyes. They were such gloriouseyes that even at that most awkward moment Eve wasfascinated by them, and she was fascinated by thecharming soft voice as the girl exclaimed:

“You give it one very big—biff, I think you call it?— is thatnot so? And poor Rogaire’s beautiful car is not so beautifulanymore!”

“It certainly is not,” Roger Merlin agreed quietly, but he didnot seize the opportunity, as Eve had half feared he would,to vent open and biting disdain upon her.

“I’m so terribly sorry,” she repeated. “Of course you must letme have the bill for the damage.”

Afterwards, when she got back to Treloan and told AuntKate about the unfortunate episode, Eve could not helpfeeling that, on the whole, the conduct of her future rival hadbeen much more restrained than she would have believedpossible. He had every cause to feel annoyed, to say theleast, and the last time they had met the sparks had almostliterally flown between them. Yet, apart from looking at herwith peculiarly cold blue eyes and ignoring her request tomake herself responsible for the repairs to his car, he didand said nothing more shattering than introduce her to hiscompanion.

“I don't think you’ve met Miss Le Frere?” There was arestrained note in his voice, but it was not as arctic as whenthey had met before. “Miss Petherick is about to set up inopposition to us, Annette,” he told her grimly, “as an hotelkeeper. She is the owner of Treloan Manor, and about toput it on the map, as the saying goes.”

’’But how exciting!” Miss Le Frere sounded as if shegenuinely thought so. “How very exciting!”

Eve flushed, and confessed that as yet they had not gotvery far with their plans.

“But it seems the right place for an hotel,” she said a littleawkwardly.

Annette's enormous eyes studied her with an alert look ofinterest, and she shifted the position of the kitten on hershoulder, stroking it with scarlet-tipped, very thin brownhands.

“You have perhaps a knowledge of the running of hotels?”she asked innocently. “Despite the fact that you look soyoung! Me, I know only what it is like to stay in them; butRogaire here has grown rich out of starting first one andthen another,” glancing up at him a little wickedly.

“If Miss Petherick hopes to grow rich as a result of openingup Treloan to the public, she will have to be a little patient,”

Commander Merlin observed rather shortly.

Annette surveyed him with a humorous expression on herface, and then looked at Eve.

“But Miss—Petherick”—she stumbled a little over the name—“has what I would call the look of patience in her face,and people with her color hair do not give up without a fight.Is it not so, Miss Petherick?”

“I prefer fighting to giving up .easily,’' Eve admitted,meeting the man’s cold blue glance with her level grey one.

“There you are, you see!” Annette appeared mildlytriumphant. She smiled charmingly at Eve. “And for myself Ido not see why she should not have as much success asyou, Rogaire, for you do not like elderly ladies with smalldogs that bark at you, and sometimes you are not—not—”searching for a word.

“Sometimes I am supremely tactless, is that what youmean?” he inquired with an ironically raised eyebrow.

She nodded.

“That is it! You have not the tact.”

He laughed, and pulled an end of her long golden hair, andat the same time his glance softened miraculously as itwandered over her. Indeed, for a moment there was almost

a surprising hint of tenderness in it as it dwelt on the outlineof her piquant profile. Eve did not miss the transformation,and she thought that this unusually attractive foreigner hadundoubtedly aroused some feeling of affection in what shewould have been prepared to wager was a not easilyassailable, or very impressionable, softer side to anexceedingly masculine male.

“And you will have to do something about your English,otherwise there will be little point in your wasting your mostimpressionable early years in this country!” he told her.

She made a little face at him, but slipped a confiding handinside his arm.

“Is Miss Petherick coming to the dance that is to be held atthe Stark Point to mark your opening of the summerseason?” she asked.

“I haven't the faintest idea.” He looked levelly at Eve. “Doyou think you could spare the time, Miss Petherick? Or areyour own concerns likely to absorb your every wakingmoment?” with smooth sarcasm. “Yours and,” he added,“the good lady who is backing you in your enterprise, theintrepid Miss Katherine Barton?”

“My aunt is certainly very busy,” Eve replied somewhathastily, and realizing that she would be late at the station tomeet her friend she opened the door of her car.

Commander Merlin closed it upon her.

“And you?” he said. “You, naturally, take your orders fromyour aunt, who struck me as a person of great enthusiasms.If there are any hints she would like me to pass on to her inconnection with the running of hotels, she has only tocommand me. Do tell her that. But possibly she has somehints which she might pass on to me . . .?”

His eyes were laughing at her, mocking, unfriendly,deliberately challenging; eyes so blue that she had thefeeling almost that she was being engulfed in ice-bluewater. She fumbled with her gears, and had some difficultyin getting her self-starter to work; but as soon as she haddone so Roger Merlin, with a wave of his lean brown hand,indicated to her that her way was clear. He was letting herget away with the damage to his car—he had not evenbothered to answer her when she had offered to pay for it.He was arrogance, and warped, saturnine humourpersonified. She felt the hot color rising up in her cheeks.

“Au revoir “Annette called, waving the kitten’s paw at her.

Eve negotiated the somewhat difficult exit from the parkwithout causing any further damage, and was still slightlyhot under her collar, when she reached the station.

C H A P T E R F I V E

THAT night she and Aunt Kate and Chris Carpenter sat

round a brightly burning log fire in the room they hadselected to be their own sitting-room, and a retreat whenthe house was over-run by strangers, as they hoped itwould be one day.

It was quite a small room, compared with most of the otherrooms in the house, and panelled in white, and the curtainsdrawn over the windows were a rich crimson damask. Thefireplace was wide and white and garlanded after theAdam style, and the logs gave off an odor of burning appleorchards which was most pleasant. Outside the windowsthe wind had risen and was crying round the house like alost soul, and the noise of the sea breaking on thoseneedle-pointed rocks so far below the level of the housewas like a persistent orchestral accompaniment from whichno ear in Treloan Manor could have escaped even had itwished.

But Chris Carpenter, not in the least tired after her longjourney from London and vaguely excited by hersurroundings, had no desire at all to miss any one of thosemuffled crashes. To her they spelled escape from a dull lifein a vast built-up area, which had seemed to have but littleuse for her, and a promise of freedom and diversity in thedays to come which she heartily welcomed. She put herfeeling into words:

“I’ve always thought of Cornwall as a place of storm andtempest, and now that I'm here I’m glad it’s going to be a

wild night — a really wild night, I hope!”

But Aunt Kate, not quite so enthusiastic — there were noneof those orchestral accompaniments in Surrey, but it hadmuch to recommend it! — shivered a little when the windtook on a new note, which suggested that it had suddenlybecame a living thing and was beginning to hurl itselfagainst the walls of the manor with the intention of trying togain an entrance.

“Pity the poor sailors on a night like this!” she observed, hervoice a little hushed. And noticing that there was a gap inthe curtains she instructed her niece to pull them closer,and then helped herself to another cup of coffee from thetray set down cosily on the little table drawn up betweentheir chairs. “Personally I hope this wind is going to blowitself out, preferably before midnight, otherwise I shan’t be

able to expect a wink of sleep.”

“I think it's exciting,” Chris declared, “especially after therumble of London buses. And I must say I think your UncleHilary behaved handsomely in dying and leaving you thislittle lot more or less as it stands, Eve,” lookingappreciatively around her and stretching her toes to theblazing logs. “If we can’t make a success of this place asan hotel, I’ll eat my hat. And if my savory omelets andspecial whipped-cream souffles don’t bring visitors backagain and again, I’ll honestly be more than surprised. And

I’m not just being conceited.”

There was nothing about Chris Carpenter which suggestedthat she had any conceit in her, for she had long agobecome accustomed to the fact that she was notglamorous and no amount of effort would ever make her so.But, despite her unruly dark hair and her tip-tilted nose andthe freckles which entirely overspread her face in thesummertime, she did look capable, and as a matter of fact,was a very capable young woman. Therefore any boast shemade did not sound like a boast.

Aunt Kate was glad to seize upon the subject of theirprojected hotel scheme as a means of forgetting theinclement behavior of the night, and Eve thought it a goodopportunity to tell them about her adventure in the car-parkin Truro. She gave Aunt Kate the Commander’s message,which instantly set the elderly lady bristling.

“Unpleasant man!” she said. “In fact, I don’t think I’ve evermet quite such an objectionable man before.”

Chris was intrigued, and Eve explained to her the designsRoger Merlin had had on Treloan, and the hostility he hadbetrayed when his offer for the place was turned down. Shedid not labor the point of how much she disliked himpersonally, but Chris was quick enough in the uptake togather that he was by no means popular and that he wasapparently bereft of good manners. Aunt Kate declared that

having once crossed swords with him she was prepared togo on doing so, and that in the end it was he who would beworsted. He deserved to be regarded as an enemy to alltheir plans, and no intercourse could ever be thought ofbetween Treloan Manor and the Stark Point Hotel.

“Him and His Grand Opening Dance!” she exclaimed.“Wait until we’re really launched and gaining in popularity,and then well have a dance! We'll have something moreexciting than a dance! Leave it to me, and I’ll think upsomething that will surprise everybody.”

Eve could not refrain from smiling a little.

“If you want any hints,” she said, “Commander Merlin iswilling to pass some on to you! And, after all, you didsuggest getting

together and pooling your ideas, didn’t you?”

Aunt Kate smiled too — rather impishly.

“It would probably be a good plan,” she said. “Hisexperience and my sheer genius! Not that I've proved mygenius yet, but I will in time. I've got a feeling that I've beenwasting my life. I ought to have taken up somethingpractical like this before.”

“So long as taking it up now won't lose you every penny youpossess,” Eve remarked more cautiously. “I should hate to

think that I’d been the cause of bringing you to ruin.”

“Tush!” Aunt Kate exclaimed. “And even if we do fail, we’vealways got the house. You can always sell it and pay meback that way.”

But the thought of selling Treloan, even with the windshuddering round it outside and growing wilder everysecond so that even Chris’s bright eyes kept turningtowards the windows as if expectantly, caused such ahollow feeling in the depths of Eve’s being that she hopedmost earnestly it would never come to that.

Suddenly Aunt Kate decided that she would be happier inbed with the blankets pulled well up over her ears, and Evesaid she would get her hot-water bottle. Chris went with herto the kitchen, and helped her attend to the boiler and dothe various odd chores she had to do before retiring for thenight, for as yet they had no indoor staff — only a girl whocame up daily from the village, as well as the gardener’swife, who lived in the lodge.

Chris opened the kitchen door, and the wind and the rainburst in so wildly that she shut it hastily. She stood with herback against the door, her cheeks flushed and her eyesquite bright with excitement.

“It’s terrific, isn’t it? she said. “On such a night almostanything could happen!”

“So long as the house isn’t blown into the sea or anythinglike that, I don’t mind,” Eve answered her. “But this is ourfirst experience of an Atlantic gale — full strength!”

“I’d love to walk out in it,” Chris declared, “and see the seaboiling at the foot of the cliffs.” .

“You wouldn’t be able to keep your feet. You’d be blown intothe sea. Listen! What’s that?”

It was a noise like a gun being fired abruptly; a heavy andpowerful gun, almost on top of the house. They all heard it,above the shriek of the wind, and they all three jumped andlooked startled; Aunt Kate standing before the window ofher bedroom on the first floor, and trying not to obey aninsistent urge to look out of the window and endeavor toforce her eyes to pierce the blackness without; Chris andEve in the middle of the kitchen floor, all eyes and blanchedcheeks, and mouths parted in questioning, round, andslightly fearful O’s.

“What was that?” Eve asked.

“It sounded like a maroon,” Chris answered. “The sort ofthing they fire when a ship's in danger.”

They stared at one another. Then Eve became consciousof the hot-water bottle she was hugging up against her, andshe said:

“I’ll take this up to Aunt Kate, and after that we’ll get ourmacs on. I’ve a kind of feeling your arrival is about to becelebrated by something catastrophic. I hope you've gotcat’s eyes and can see in the dark, and I hope you don’tmind getting drenched, because that’s what’s going tohappen to us. And I hope you've brought some stoutWellington boots.”

“I have,” Chris assured her. “Don’t worry.”

Miss Barton met her niece at the head of the beautiful, fan-shaped staircase. She had Sarah tucked beneath her arm,and she looked worried.

“What was that — that loud bang just now? she asked in aquavering voice. Surrey and her cosy cottage seemed sovery far away, and she had a feeling she was going to bebrought up against harsh realities.

“I don't know, Aunt,” Eve told her gently; “but Chris and I aregoing to find out, and if I were you I’d just hop into bed andforget everything until the morning.”

“Don’t be silly!” Aunt Kate retorted with some spirit. “If youtwo are going out, I shall just sit and wait for you to comeback. But whatever you do, be careful! For heaven’s sake,Eve, be careful!”

Eve could almost have laughed — only the wind would havewhipped her breath away — once she and Chris were

outside and away from the protection of the house, at thethought of Aunt Kate’s admonition to “be careful”. As wellexpect someone sitting on top of a hot fire not to gettoasted!

What the force of the wind that was blowing that night wasshe would probably never know, but she did know that itroared in her ears like the flapping of giant sails. Her voice,when she tried to shout to Chris, was carried away in theopposite direction, and it was as much as she could do tobreathe as she fought her way forward. The rain lashed ather, stinging her face like a flail, and above all the tumultshe could hear the tremendous roaring voice of the seabeating itself against the granite coast. The darkness wasinky and practically impenetrable, and only the feel of softturf under her feet told her that they were still in the groundsof Treloan Manor and not on the open cliff top.

Chris, whose eyesight must have been better than her own,suddenly caught hold of her arm and gripped it hard, andshouted close to Eve’s ear:

“Better keep away from the edge of the cliff!”

A cluster or red flowers burst high up in the sky, scatteringwidely over the frightening void which was the sea, andtheir appearance was followed by a dull boom which wasalmost instantly swallowed up in the wild cacophony ofother sounds. Both girls halted as if at the behest of an

invisible barrier placed across their path, and then Chrisshouted again:

“A rocket! It is a ship in distress!”

They were out on the exposed cliff-top now, and that burstof light had shown them how perilously close to the edgethey had ventured. They veered away from it, clinging toone another, and all at once as they reached the roadanother light came pouring over it, and a large and powerfulcar swept past them in the night. Eve looked over hershoulder and saw the red tail-light and a flash of light-colored paintwork, and she knew that it was CommanderMerlin’s car which had passed them on the road. Bypausing she lost contact with Chris, and then she saw thatthe red tail-light was stationary, and Roger Merlin had thrusthis head out of his open car door.

Eve tried to turn and fight her way back to him, but the forceof the wind was like the force of a maniac. When she dideventually reach him she could not even attempt to speak,and his hand dragged her into the shelter of the open door.

“What are you doing out here on a night like this?” He worea drenched oilskin, and the rain was pouring down from hisblack hair and running in rivers down his cheeks. Strangelyshe noticed how his white teeth flashed by contrast with allthe darkness surrounding him. “You ought to be indoors!What is your aunt thinking about to let you out like this?”

Eve's breath was coming back to her, and she gasped:“The wreck! Is there a ship in distress? Where is it?” “Downthere!” He pointed to the beach below the portion of cliff onwhich they were standing. “It’s a yacht, and it’s being drivenon to the rocks. Tom Geake and his crowd are down there,and the lifeboat’s going to put out to them. But whetherthey’ll be able to prevent them breaking up, I don’t know. It’sa fiend of a night!” He was still grasping her shoulder, andhis fingers bruised her flesh. “But you can’t go back alone.Get in here,” and she was unceremoniously bundled, beforeshe could even think of a protest, on to the back seat of hiscar, and the door was slammed upon her.

After the turmoil without, the sudden almost uncanny silencewithin the luxuriously upholstered and expensivelyappointed vehicle was almost enough to unnerve her. Andthe owner of the car having vanished after switching off allbut his side-lights and left her alone at the side of the road,she began to feel vaguely resentful. After all, she was a freeagent, and Chris would be wondering what had become ofher, and Aunt Kate would be panic-stricken if Chrisreturned to the house without her. Then there was the yachtbeing driven on to the rocks below, and if a rescue waseffected other kinds of help would be needed. She couldnot just sit here on the back seat of a car.

She bent forward to open the car door, and instantly a lowgrowl brought her up with a jolt, for it was a growl within abare few inches of her. A queer sensation, like the hair

rising on the back of her neck, affected her, and she drew alittle away from the noise of heavy breathing which all atonce she recognized. It was the bulldog

— and he was sitting right beside her!

Then she could almost have laughed at the absurdity of thesituation. To be afraid of a dog — she who was a doglover!

“All right, old chap!” she said, edging a little nearer to thedoor at the same time, and her hand reached once morefor the handle. “It’s quite all right.”

But the bull-dog’s growl this time convinced her that it wasnot all right. So long as she remained perfectly still, nothingwould happen to her, but the instant she moved . . . !

She bit her lip in utter vexation, while around her the wildchaos of the night continued and below her men toiled onthe beach. What right had Roger Merlin to imprison her likethis? He was impossible! She felt that she detested him,and yet there was nothing she could do about it. Nothingsave possess her soul in patience and wait until he choseto set her free.

She lay back against the luxurious padded seat, and felt thebulldog relax beside her. It was a humiliating situation, tosay the least!

C H A P T E R S I X

BACK at the house Aunt Kate had rejected all ideas ofgoing to bed, and was busy lighting fires and keeping firesalready lighted going. Something told her that tonight wasgoing to be no ordinary night, and that before the dawn lightinvaded the sky, and the Witches’

Sabbath that was going on without died down of its ownaccord, some extraordinary measures would have to betaken to meet the demands of the hours of darkness.

Once she had got over her early fright, the fright caused bythat first abruptly exploding rocket, she was all calmefficiency and able to concentrate her mind on possibleneeds. If a ship was in danger there would be people to besaved — human lives to be succoured, and then warmthand shelter to be provided for the rescued. Treloan Manorwas the only house of any size or importance along thatparticular side of coast, and of Treloan Manor hospitalitymight be demanded. Therefore Aunt Kate saw to it that thefire in the hall simply roared in the chimney, and theswinging bronze lantern, of great size and candle-power,depending from the glass-filled dome in the centre of theceiling, blazed away like a star under its crystal roof. Eventhe torch in the hands of the elegant bronze female at thefoot of the graceful staircase was lighted, for Aunt Kate feltthere must be no niggardliness, only an assurance ofwelcome.

And by the time Tom Geake came hammering at the frontdoor she had enough hot water in the boiler to provide asuccession of hot baths, blankets piled up in the airing-cupboard, and even Thermos flasks of hot coffee waiting.

Tom Geake looked dazzled by the radiance after theblackness outside, and the water was pouring off hisoilskins. Chris Carpenter was immediately behind him,looking very much like a drowned rat, and behind her wasan assortment of wild-eyed human beings, one glance atwhom convinced Miss Barton that her preparations hadbeen inspired and that, if anything, they would proveinadequate. Indeed, so horrified was she by the sight of awoman in a flame-colored evening-frock plastered to herbody like a second skin, and with a man’s soaked raincoatheld over her head, and an elderly gentleman in stripedpyjamas, without even the benefit of a raincoat, that she didnot so much as notice that her niece was not amongst theparty.

To Geake said gruffly:

“Sorry to barge in on you like this, Miss Barton, but therewasn’t nothing else we could do. These folks has had apretty bad time.”

“Don’t mention it, Mr. Geake,” Aunt Kate answered hastily.“Such a dreadful night, and anything we can do. ... ” Sheassisted the lady with the raincoat to unwind it from about

her once beautifully ordered tresses, and then thrust herinto a chair close to the fire, so that within a few minutes herteeth stopped chattering, and she was able to realize thatshe was no longer in any immediate danger. And then,because the sight of the elderly gentleman without any coatat all offended every right instinct she possessed, AuntKate draped him personally with a blanket, and wasrewarded by a most unexpected twinkle from level greyeyes under shaggy grey eyebrows.

“That’s very kind of you indeed, madam,” he said. She feltthat, had he been fully clothed, he would have accorded hera little bow. Even as it was he seemed remarkablyunaffected by the knowledge of his unconventionalappearance or by his recent experiences. “But if you’ll onlyconcentrate on the ladies of our party you’ll be fulfilling aChristian duty. Mrs. Wilmott is suffering rather badly fromshock, and her daughter, Miss Ann”—indicating a slight,bedraggled figure looking out hopelessly from under aseaman’s sou’wester, and dripping all over the rug—”overthere, has also had a bad time. If you happen to have adrop of brandy handy. . .

“Of course!” Aunt Kate exclaimed, and darted off to thediningroom, where she had already set out all the alcoholicstimulants that were contained in the house. It amountedactually to very little, for neither she nor Eve was very muchaddicted to the solace which comes out of bottles.

After that she had scarcely a moment to realize either whatshe was doing or why she was doing it. The storm mighthave subsided for all she remembered it, and she flewbackwards and forwards from the kitchen to the hall, whichwas now full of the steam and the smell of drying garments,with cups of tea and mugs of coffee. Chris helped her, andwhen once they all but collided Chris asked:

“Where’s Eve got to? Haven’t you seen her? I lost touch,with her out there in all that madness of wind and rain, but acar came along and I think it must have picked her up.”

“What!” Miss Barton sounded utterly horrified, but thegentleman in the pyjamas (who by this time had introducedhimself as a Dr. Craig) was presenting the owner of thestricken vessel to her, and she felt her hand grasped by afirm, tanned hand which belonged to a man with an equallytanned face, who might have been somewhere betweenforty and fifty. He had patches of snow-white hair at histemples, and a smile which quite won her heart. His namewas Martin Pope, and although his yacht, Rose of Sharon,was in danger of being nothing more than a memory bymorning, he could spare her a speech full of gratitude for allshe was doing for his shipwrecked companions. Like Dr.Craig, he was anxious for the well-being of his feminineguests. He urged that, if possible, they should be gotupstairs, to some sort of a bed, and some sort of privacy—anywhere where they could remove their still soakinggarments, and slip between warm blankets until the

morning, at least. After that he would, of course, make otherarrangements for them.

Aunt Kate had already made up her mind to offer her ownroom to Mrs. Wilmott, and decided that the daughter couldbe put into one of the other guest-rooms. She offered up aprayer of thankfulness for the size, and the preparedness,of Treloan.

Then she looked up and saw Eve standing in the doorway,and although she had been absent for a considerablewhile, to the secret perturbation of her aunt, she was notnearly as bedraggled looking as might have been expectedafter nearly an hour and half’s exposure to the weather.

But there was a curious, white, repressed look in her face,and beside her in the doorway was Commander Merlin,looking as if he had been immersed in sea-water, and witha nasty, ragged cut above one eye from which a trickle ofblood descended to his cheek.

For the first time in her life Eve was conscious of havingcome up against a situation which was beyond her, and forthe first time in her life she had allowed such a situation toget quite out of hand. Which was perhaps not altogethersurprising, for after being cooped up on the back seat of aperfectly strange car for over an hour, with a perfectlystrange dog keeping watch and ward over her in theblackness, she was in such a state of mind that even anger

had escaped her. Anger had consumed her during the firsthalf-hour, while all the demons of storm and tempestworked their will about her and the dreadful feeling that shecould do nothing had had her in its grip. But the secondhalf-hour had passed with such agonizing slowness, withthe bulldog making revolting snoring noises beside her onthe seat, and growling ominously every time she moved somuch as an inch, that a kind of inescapable lassitude hadovercome her, and she had been almost asleep whenRoger Merlin had returned to his car.

Almost—but not quite!

“What right had you to keep me shut up like this?” shedemanded, with a kind of hiss in her voice, when he put inhis head.

It was far too dark for her to see his face, but she had aqueer impression that he was smiling at her, and with theopening of the car door the wind and rain rushed in andalmost whipped away the rug she had managed to drapeabout her knees.

“You should worry,” he told her, shaking water from himselfas a duck shakes water from its feathers. “You’ve beencomfortably warm and dry, whilst I and quite a few otherpeople are very much the reverse. And now I'll drive youback to Treloan.”

“You needn’t trouble,” she was beginning, when somehowher words ran dry and she sank back almost limply againstthe seat. “It was such a silly thing to do,” she told himweakly. “I was quite capable of taking care of myself.”

“Were you?” He was starting up the car, and the bulldogwas effusively standing up on its hind paws and licking theback of his neck. “But you don’t know this part of the worldas I know it, and you might very easily have gone right overthe edge of the cliff. And another search- party to recoveryour body after coping with a yacht anxious to break itselfup on the rocks would have been too much in one evening.Therefore I thought you were safer here in the car.”“Unpleasant man!” she said to herself, feeling that shedisliked him intensely, but aloud she said: “What happenedto the yacht? Will it founder altogether?”

“With any luck it won’t, but there’s no one aboard it at themoment. They’ve all been brought ashore.”

He did not prepare her for the fact that she herself was toact hostess to them in a very short while, and she saidagain, realizing that he would take little notice of her:“There’s no need for you to drive me back to Treloan. Thewind seems to be dropping a bit, and it’s not raining sohard. I can find my way.”

“You don’t need to,” he answered. “We've arrived!” As hehanded her out of the car she realized that, but for his

assistance, her cramped limbs would have bent under her,and probably given way. She was experiencing a kind ofmental exhaustion and a feeling of deflation, as if she was apricked balloon, for, having set forth in a mood ofbreathless expectancy, she returned covered in humiliation.

When the hall door of the manor was opened to them thebright lights caused her to blink foolishly, and the sight of somany people congregated beneath the star-like swinginglantern confused her. She saw Aunt Kate shepherding twooddly-attired ladies up the wide staircase, and a man withpatches of snow-white hair at his temples and a soakedduffle-coat hunched round his shoulders was staring hard ather.

“Thank goodness, Eve!” Aunt Kate paused on the stairs tocall down to her. “I couldn’t think what had happened toyou!”

Roger Merlin looked up at Miss Barton, after shaking someof the blood out of his eyes, and he made her a kind ofironic little halfbow.

“Good evening, Miss Barton! You seem to have risensplendidly to the occasion!”

“Thank you, Commander Merlin,” she returned rather dryly;and then, after an extra keen look at him, she indicated thelong refectory table in the centre of the hall. “There’s tea,

coffee, sherry, and a little whisky there,” she said. “I’drecommend the whisky, if you don’t mind the absence ofsoda. And, Eve, I think it would be a good idea if, as soonas you’ve had some refreshment yourself, you attended tothat cut over the Commander’s eye. It appears to bebleeding rather freely.”

For the first time Eve, looking up at him automatically,became aware of the fact that he had received some sortof minor injury, and the sight of the blood upset her a little.

“I didn’t know you were hurt!” she said.

“I’m not,” he told her, and took her by the arm and led herover to the table. “What about a whisky-without soda foryou? Or would you prefer tea or coffee? Perhaps a dash ofwhisky in some of that hot coffee . . . ?”

“No, thank you,” she returned quickly. “Just tea.”

As soon as he had handed it to her she passed him atumbler, and insisted upon his helping himself from therather lowered contents of the whisky bottle. Then, lookingup again at the cut above his eye, which was on theopposite side of his face from the slightly saturnine scarwhich raked it, she demanded to know how he hadreceived it.

“I believe you were helping down on the beach, weren’tyou? While I was sitting in the back of your car!”

“Clever girl!” he told her,

smiling at her out of inscrutable blue eyes. “And, as I saidbefore, you were comfortably warm and dry, while therewas nothing at all you could have done on the beach saveget yourself thoroughly soaked through for nothing, and Idoubt whether you could have even kept your feet. I don’tthink you’ve had much experience with our spring gales,have you? They’re not at all playful, you know.”

“And you were afraid I would get in your way—hinder yourefforts, perhaps, because I’m such a landlubber?” lookingat him with her cool, grey eyes. 'Men must work and womenmust weep?' “ she quoted.

“Something like that,” he agreed, smiling lazily.

“But it was a little high-handed of you, all the same. Yourdog might have taken quite a dislike to me! ”

“I don’t think so,” he replied, with the same faintly mockingsparkle in his eyes. Then he caught sight of Martin Popelooking towards them, and he moved a step or two to meethim. “Mr. Pope, let me introduce you to Miss Petherick, theowner of Treloan Manor, and your hostess for the night. ButI’m afraid she would have preferred to have taken a moreactive part in your rescue!”

“Which proves her a true Cornishwoman,” said Martin

Pope, looking down at her most appreciatively and takingher hand. “But with a name like Petherick she couldn'tpossibly be anything other than a true Cornishwoman.” Eveflushed delicately under the deliberate gaze of his steel-grey eyes.

“I’m sure my aunt has done her best to make you welcome”she said; “but I'm sorry I wasn’t here to welcome you, too,when you arrived,” wondering when he was going toremember to release her hand again. He did so at lastrather abruptly, as if suddenly realizing that he wastransgressing ordinary common politeness, and for quite along time afterwards her fingers tingled from the closepressure of his hold. “I’m afraid at the moment we're a littlebit short-staffed, and things here are not quite what I wouldlike them to be—what I hope they will be one day!” Shelooked, without quite realizing what she was doing, in thedirection of Commander Merlin, and saw a tiny smileappear on his face. “But, such as they are, I hope you canput up with them, and, believe me, you’re very welcome! I’mafraid you’ve had a dreadful experience.”

“It could have been much worse,” he answered. “Very muchworse! We might all have been at the bottom of the sea bythis time. I’ll certainly hand it to your part of the Cornishcoast when the weather turns rough—it’s a terror to smallcraft like mine!”

“But I do hope your yacht will be saved,” she said.

He shrugged his shoulders slightly.

“Not at the cost of men's lives! There’s no one aboard hernow, and in the morning she may be broken up. We can buthope for the best.”

“Then I shall hope very hard.” She turned to CommanderMerlin. “I would like to attend to that cut over your eye.”

Martin Pope looked at it with concern.

“I’m afraid you got that in the lifeboat! I don’t think I’veproperly thanked you yet for offering us so much unstintedassistance.”

“Rubbish, man!” the Commander exclaimed. He wasbuttoning up his oilskin coat, and seemed on the point ofdeparture. “I don’t think there’s any further use I can be toyou tonight, anyway, and if you’ll excuse me I’ll be gettingback. If you want anything, Miss Petherick—any stores oranything—just send over to the Stark Point in the morning.And now, good night.”

“But your eye!” she protested. “You must let me see to it.”

He gave her a smile which she felt was calculated, in somecurious way, to arouse her annoyance—mocking,undervaluing, belittling, vaguely disturbing.

“Thank you, Miss Petherick, but it’s not in the least serious,

and it can wait.”

“All the same, I do think you---------- ”

He cut her short by saluting her briefly—a farewell gesturewhich included her companion—and then turned abruptlyand made for the door. Martin Pope looked after him,smiling appreciatively.

“A good chap, that,” he said. “Like all his type, dislikeseffusiveness, but sound value underneath. I’m a north-countryman myself, and in the north of England we’re notvery smooth-mannered, either, but we know. how to sum upour fellow human beings.”

“Do you?” But Eve was wondering whether it was merelyrudeness, a dislike of being gracious, which had causedRoger Merlin, her nearest neighbor of any importance, toreject so determinedly her offer to attend to the slight woundhe had received.

Chris Carpenter came along at that moment, her arms fullof hot-water bottles she was about to place in the beds oftheir unexpected guests, and she called as she

passed:

“Could you lend me a hand with the bed-making, Eve? It willbe quicker if you can help, and Miss Barton’s upstairslooking after Mrs. 9 Wilmott and her daughter.” “Of course,”

Eve answered immediately; but she turned and smiled herparticularly attractive smile at Martin Pope before she lefthim, and he watched her with considerable interest as shewalked towards the foot of the stairs with Chris.

C H A P T E R S E V E N

THE next morning they were all up betimes—or Eve, heraunt, and Chris Carpenter were. Chris was in the kitcheneven before it was light, doing things to the stove andinspecting the contents of the larder. When Eve appearedshe was feverishly whipping up eggs, and half a dozentrays were set out on the big kitchen table, each with a lace-edged tray-cloth allocated to it. The best breakfast chinahad received an extra polish and the silver positively shone.

“I thought perhaps you wouldn’t mind making the toast,” shesaid to Eve, as the latter helped herself to a cup of tea fromthe old-fashioned brown teapot on the hob. “I don’t imagineany of those poor wretches who escaped a watery gravelast night will wish to be seen downstairs before aboutnoon, at the very earliest. But unless they’re too exhaustedto eat, they’ll want some breakfast.” “What a night!” Eveexclaimed, going to the window and watching the pearlylight of a perfect dawn come creeping over the garden. “Butthe sea’s as calm as a full-pond this morning.”

“Then I’m very glad it was rough last night!”

Eve gazed at her in astonishment.

“But you’ve just been saying that those poor things upstairs“

“I know, darling, but be your age! It’s an hotel we want to getstarted here, isn’t it? And it’s not always easy to get anhotel started just when you want to — without a lot ofexpensive advertising, that is. But this affair of last night hasbeen a positive godsend to us. It's given us our start!” “Howyou think of things!” Eve murmured, slicing the bread for thetoast. “But I don’t wish to make capital out of other people’smisfortunes.”

Chris studied her a little pityingly.

“Listen!” She said. “A wealthy yacht owner getsshipwrecked on your very doorstep, he and a whole bevy ofhis friends, and it’s to you they turn for shelter! Your houseis large, commodious, beautifully flourished, completelyequipped to deal with such an emergency.”

“Save for the fact that our staff is limited and we’re not reallyat all ready to cope with even the odd week-end quest!Why, you yourself only arrived yesterday, and you haven’thad a chance to see the place in daylight!”

“Never mind that,” Chris side-tracked this undoubted truth.“The point is that we’ve got a lot of people together underthis roof in one fell swoop, as it were, and it’s up to us to

make the most of such an opportunity. Why, it’s almostcertain never to happen again! You might spend weeksadvertising. . . . And now, here you have Mr. Martin Pope —almost certainly a man of substance, or he wouldn’t evenbeginto own a yacht, let alone fill it with guests. . .”

“They looked terribly bedraggled when I first caught sight ofthem last night, and there was little indication of even Mr.Pope's affluence,” Eve interrupted, watching her aunt comebustling into the kitchen in a blue wool housecoat, and jointhem, looking interested, at the table.

“As to that, my dear,” she said, addressing her niece, “theflame-colored evening-gown belonging to Mrs. NevilleWilmott which I, personally, undertook to dry for her, costalmost certainly as much as I’ve ever been able to spendon clothes in a year, or pretty nearly! And it’s got a Parislabel which will make your mouth water!”

“Well, there you are, you see!” Chris cried triumphantly.“And if any of their things are rescued from the yacht, they’llprobably make your mouth water, too.”

“We’d better wait and see,” Eve decided.

“All the same, I agree with Chris,” Aunt Kate stated firmly,watching the new cook add chopped chives and asprinkling of chopped onion to her omelet mixture beforelowering it carefully into the sizzling butter in the frying- pan.

“Treloan Manor is opening up as an hotel, or, at any rate, asa guest-house, and it would be foolish to let these peoplefind accommodation elsewhere when we canaccommodate them comfortably ourselves. Why, they mighteven decide to stay for quite a time, if we look after themreally well.”

“They might,” Eve agreed.

“By the way,” Chris said, “what happened to you last nightwhen you disappeared, Eve? I had a horrible thought thatyou'd gone over the cliff until I saw you reappear with thatMerlin man. It was the Merlin man, wasn't it? He lookstough. I don't think I’d like to be on the wrong side of him forlong!”

“No; I don’t think I would, either,” Aunt Kate supported her.“There’s something about that man — I don’t know quitewhat it is, but Mr. Pope was singing his praises last night tosuch an extent that I felt I ought to revise my opinion of him.Apparently his disregard for life and limb

— his own! — in an emergency like last night is quitespectacular.”

But Eve could not help remembering that hour spent on theback seat of his car, and she did not know whether shewanted to be on the right or the wrong side of Roger Merlin.She was only more or less certain of the fact that under no

circumstances could she ever possibly like him.

Later that morning, while her guests were still enjoying thedeep sleep of exhaustion upstairs, she went out into thegarden to see whether there were any flowers she couldgather for the vases. The vases were needed for thedrawing room and the luncheon table, but at first it was noteasy to find just what she wanted.

The garden was more or less a wilderness, but it was anattractive wilderness, especially in the warm sunshine of anearly spring morning. The mad havoc of the night beforehad laid low many plants and bushes, and a tree had beenuprooted and lay across one of the lower lawns, nearer thecliff walk. But there was a soothing murmur of birdsong inthe drowsy calm of the morning, and the scent of theopening azaleas was wafted on the breeze. Eve gatheredsome sprays of creamy pink and white, and a burnishedyellow, like the heart of a china rose, and also a fewbranches of rhododendrons which, like the azaleas, werecoming into flower far earlier than they would have done inthe bleaker, south-eastern counties. Then, drawn by themurmur of the sea, she drifted along the cliff walk to theopen cliff top itself, and from thence to her favorite point ofvantage on the very edge of the cliff.

It was a good thing, she thought, as she looked down, thatshe was not affected in any way by heights, or by the sirenlure of that surging voice of the sea far below her. She

loved watching the sea; in storm or in calm, it fascinatedher, and she was awed by its immensity, but it had noterrors of any sort for her. She could have gone down to theedge of the beach the night before and done her best forthe survivors of Mr. Pope’s yacht as they stepped ashoreafter hours of uncertainty and terror afloat, and had no fearsat all for her own safety. She was a strong swimmer andshe loved swimming, and she loved playing about on theedge of the surf when the sun was shining, as it was thismorning, and the feel of the warm, sparkling water was acaress in itself.

But, most of all, she liked to contemplate it from a height,like an eagle contemplating the world from its eyrie. Sheliked to watch the slow surge of the incoming breakers, theplay of light and shadow in the water, the fleeting shadowsof swooping gulls.

This morning there was a kind of shimmer over everything,and it dazzled her eyes a little, so that when she heardfootsteps on the path behind her and turned to discoverwho it was who had followed her, she did not immediatelyrecognize Martin Pope.

For one thing, the owner of the Rose of Sharonwas nolonger in the least bedraggled -or careworn after hours ofanxiety and fears for the safety of his guests. He looked asif he had enjoyed an almost perfect night (which, as amatter of fact, he had, in one of Treloan Manor’s most

comfortable and spacious bedrooms) and his well-pressedflannel trousers and dark blue blazer, with the badge of afamous yacht club emblazoned on the pocket, suited hisspare frame and healthy, bronzed appearance admirably.Even the patches of white at his temples were not sonoticeable in the sunshine, and he had excellent, hard whiteteeth which flashed as he smiled a morning greeting.

Eve was wearing a pale-colored sweater and a skirt ofdark green corduroy velvet, and the exquisite sprays ofazalea were hugged up in her arms and lightly caressingher cheek. Her hair, more gold than red in the soft light ofmorning, streamed out behind her, and a curl as temptingas any that was ever formed to wave above a wide smoothbrow dipped down into her eyes. She brushed it awayimpatiently as she recognized Mr. Pope.

“Good morning, Mr. Pope. You are up early!”

“Forgive me for disagreeing with you,” he said, as heconsulted his watch, “but I seem to have slept the clockround! This is a disgracefully late hour for me to make myfirst appearance of the day, but there must be somethingabout your beds which induces sleep. I’ve never been soloath to leave a bed in my life.”

He was eyeing her with admiration, the slender grace of herfigure, the heedless manner in which she stood there on thevery edge of the cliff, overhanging those sharp-toothed,

amethyst and emerald colored rocks on which he had sonearly come to grief the night before.

He shielded his eyes from the glare and looked down atthem. The sea seeped quietly in amongst them, and the lowmurmur of it reached their ears. There was a tiny, shelteredcove, where the smooth sand looked very white andinviting, and across which the shadow of the cliff fell _ deepand blue, like indigo, which would cease to exist at hightide.

“It all looks very attractive in the daylight,” he observed.Then he looked at her again, keenly. “You don’t suffer fromvertigo?” he remarked.

“No.” She smiled. “And neither, apparently, do you, sinceyou can stand here quite calmly beside me!”

“How do you know I haven't any inward qualms?”

“I’m quite sure you haven't,” she told him. “Otherwise youwouldn’t be keen on yachting, and at this season of theyear. You’re used to the sea.”

“Not so used to it as that fellow Merlin, your neighbor. As amatter of fact, I’ve been having a kind of health cruise

— doctor’s orders!” Smiling at her and surprising her a littlebecause he looked so brown and fit. “And last night wewere driven off our course by the gale which sprang up. We

were heading for Falmouth and some necessary repairs,after a leisurely cruise off the southern coast of France,when disaster hit us.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said with real sympathy. “Is there anynews yet of our yacht?”

“Oh yes — and good news, too. Instead of being driven onthe rocks she was driven out to sea, and some localcoastguard fellows got aboard her and brought her in thismorning. We've already had some essential items ofwearing apparel brought up to us,” indicating the smart blueblazer and the well-pressed flannel trousers.

“Oh, I am glad!” But Eve's heart sank. This would put an endto all Aunt Kate's and Chris Carpenter’s fond hopes ofgetting Treloan Manor started as an hotel. In a short whilenow the unexpected visitors of the night before wouldprobably all have departed back to the yacht.

C H A P T E R E I G H T

“IN that case, I suppose you — I suppose you'll soon bereturning to the yacht?” Eve said rather flatly, after amoment of silence.

“Well, hardly.” He continued to smile at her as if herdowncast expression amused him a little. “As I said, theRose was needing repairs before last night, and herexperiences in the last twenty-four hours have rendered a

complete overhaul absolutely necessary. I’m afraid it will bethe dry-dock for her for some little while. And for us —forMrs. Wilmott and her daughter, Dr. Craig, my son Laurence(whom, by the way, I’m not sure you've been properlyintroduced to yet) and myself — an hotel! Unless we makeup our minds to return to London almost immediately.”

“But what about your — your health?” she asked, feeling herpulses beating a little faster as if with excitement, andstealing a glance up at him. “Ought you to return to Londonyet?”

“Not for any reason apart from business reasons, In fact,quite frankly I'm loathing the idea of returning to it at all, afterthe glorious freedom of the past few weeks. But I can’t goon neglecting things for ever, or become a permanent lotus-eater — much as I approve of lotus-eating!”

“I haven't had very much opportunity to try it,” sheconfessed, sounding a trifle wistful, for a little shadow hadfallen across her heart with the thought that, if they failed intheir experiment to make Treloan pay for itself, soon, all toosoon, she, too, would have to return to the workaday worldand forget the Cornish cliffs and the sunshine.

They had started to walk back to the house, and he placedher carefully on the inside of the path, keeping thedangerous cliff edge on his own left hand.

“Your aunt, Miss Barton, has been showing me over yourhouse,” he told her. “It’s a delightful place! I understand youhave plans for it?”

Eve felt herself flushing a little. Had Aunt Kate been lettingher tongue run away with her?

“Well, er — yes,” she admitted. “We have. But whether ornot they’re really practical plans, I don’t know.”

Martin Pope was studying her sideways, and there was afaintly whimsical expression on his face.

“Oh, don’t worry about Miss Barton,” he said. “She’s full ofenthusiasm, and I don't marvel at it. A perfect gem of aperiod house, a glorious situation, and almost everyinducement for the holidaymaker! I don't see how you canpossibly fail.”

“Oh, don’t you?” She sounded relieved, but there was doubtin her tone as well. “You’re not being merely kind, becauseyou’re feeling rather grateful? I know Aunt Kate does talk alittle unwisely at times, and she might have led you tobelieve ...”

“Not at all,” he interrupted her. “On the contrary, your aunthas talked a lot of sound common sense, and I’m sureshe’s quite a shrewd business woman. As a matter of fact,after being shown over the place, and if I'd been given theleast idea that you wanted to sell, I’d have offered to buy the

place myself.”

“To run as an hotel?” she asked quickly, looking up at himkeenly. “Well, perhaps not for that reason.” He paused,looking at her with a curiously gentle smile on his pleasantlyfeatured face. “You see, I happen to be rather morefavorably circumstanced, possibly, than you are yourself,and I don’t have to bother about such things as — well,making money! I made all the money I’m ever likely to needyears ago, and it still goes on accumulating. Money is likethat, you know; it doubles itself when you’re not particularlyanxious for it to do so! No,” still regarding her, “I would likethis house to live in, and to enjoy the beauty of it.”

“That's what I would like to do, too, even though it is a bitlarge, but I'm afraid that just isn’t possible.” She laughedrather shakily. “Hence our hotel scheme!”

“Which, believe me, is a good one. Are you ready forguests yet?” She clenched her hands involuntarily,wondering what Aunt Kate had told him.

He laughed.

“Oh yes, your aunt has assured me that you are! And,furthermore, I’ve already told her that I and my party wouldlike to be your first guests — for a week or so, at least!” Hiseyes roved over the peacefulness and the quiet lovelinessof the garden, backed by the dignified white Georgian

residence. “After such an experience as last night, thisseems a particularly halcyon spot in which to recover ourbreath, shall we say?”

Eve did not know how to thank him. She felt sure he wasmerely agreeing to stay out of a kind of quixotic desire torepay her hospitality and ready assistance of the nightbefore. He was, despite a certain indication of steeliness inhis upright frame, grave grey eyes and quiet voice, anessentially kindly man. A human man. She felt so certain ofthat that her thoughts almost shone in her own grey eyes asshe looked up at him.

“Mr. Pope, I — I’m not even sure we can make youcomfortable!” He laughed in a particularly pleasant manner,and took her arm. “My dear young lady, you’ve alreadymade me most comfortable,

and that cook of yours is a wizard! Even Mrs. Wilmott wouldlike to stay, and she is sometimes a little difficult to please.”

“And Dr. Craig?”

“Dr. Craig has been enjoying himself at my expense forseveral weeks now, and he’s quite happy to go on doingso. He’s the old villain who takes an interest in my health,and ordered me to rest.”

“I see,” Eve said.

“And as for my son, well, we’ll probably only see him for afew more days, as he’s by the way of working very hard toget his degree, and it’s back to Oxford for him. But I don’tmind telling you he’s charmed by this place.”

“I think you're all suffering from overwhelming gratitudebecause you’re not at the bottom of the sea!”

Once again Martin Pope laughed and gave her arm a littlesqueeze.

“Nonsense, Miss Petherick! I don’t think you quite realize allthat Treloan has to offer.”

And as he was looking down at her face as he spoke and itwas as creamily pink as the azaleas in her arms, heprobably knew what he was talking about!

After that there was simply no holding Miss Barton. Shedetermined to give up her own room to Mrs. Wilmott for aslong as she cared to occupy it, and as Mrs. Wilmott wasquick to realize that it was one of the most sun-filled andpleasantly situated bedrooms in the whole house, thatmight be for any length of time, and certainly until she tookher departure.

Mrs. Neville Wilmott, as she always called herself, was afashionable window of uncertain age and by no meansuncertain looks. She was dark, arresting, and a littlemysterious. That is to say, she had mysterious and

shadowy eyes, and as she used a great deal of eye-shadow, the mysteriousness was emphasized. Her lipstickwas always a bright vermilion, for she still had a skin likethe petals of a peculiarly flawless white rose, and couldstand the sharpness of the contrast. She wore diamonddrops in her ears, which drew attention to the excellence oftheir shape, and her manner was languid and a little distant,particularly after the shock of her experiences aboardMartin Pope's yacht. For a day or so after Treloan Manorhad provided her with sanctuary she remaineddeterminedly shut away in her room, professing anexhaustion which was no doubt partly real, although shewas able to do justice to Chris Carpenter's daintily servedmeals (which in her case were extra-daintily served up on atray) and read the books and magazines with which MissBarton kept her plentifully supplied, while appreciating theamenities of Miss Barton’s room.

Miss Barton’s room had a balcony outside the windowswhich looked right out to sea, and it was provided withchaise-lounges and little wicker tables. It also had its ownprivate bathroom, beautifully equipped, with a shower, andthe furnishings were quite expensive — sufficientlyexpensive for Mrs. Neville Wilmott. She was even inclinedto feel that it had decided advantages over the smallstateroom she had occupied on the Rose of Sharon.

Her daughter, Ann, was a pale, rather frightened sprite of agirl. She wandered about with a lost look on her face, and

was only alert in the presence of her mother, who plainlyregarded her with a good deal of impatience. She hadnone of her mother's striking good looks, although Evethought her rather pathetically attractive, and was a littlesurprised that Laurence Pope was so little interested in her.Tall, dark, and plainly very studious, Laurence went bathingalone down in the sheltered cove, and went for long walkswithout inviting anyone to accompany him.

Dr. Craig was a cheerful, retired general practitioner. Heand Aunt Kate seemed to get on extraordinarily well fromthe moment that she first offered to provide him with ablanket to cover the unblushing violence of his pyjamas;and as he had quite a sound knowledge of horticulture, shelistened to his advice on the laying out of the gardens — assoon as money could be spent on them — and on variousother aspects of hotel running which had not occurred toher. He was a practical little man, a bit of a sybarite, likeherself (when she was able to indulge herself in her Surreycottage), a bachelor, and Sarah took quite kindly to hisankles, and allowed him to take her for long walks over thecliffs — to get her fat down, as he said. She was far, far toofat.

Eve, in those busy days when they were doing their best tomake their first guests comfortable, had little time to sparefor reflection, or even to feel interest in these people whohad come so suddenly and violently into her life, and wereapparently well content to settle down at Treloan, for the

time being at least. Martin Pope she certainly regardedwith feelings of gratitude, for she was sure he had beenlargely instrumental in persuading his friends to stay. Andhe had a charming, kindly way with him which enabled herto like him very easily. He was not in the least difficult toplease, either, and yet she had little doubt that he wassomething of a connoisseur where food and service wereconcerned. He was obviously rich enough — and on hisown confession! — to have stayed in some of the besthotels in England and abroad, and it was unlikely that,having paid for the best, he would have been willing toaccept anything less than what he expected. Therefore thestandard of Treloan, simple though it was, must meet withhis approval, and his enthusiasm for the house and itssituation grew daily.

Chris Carpenter toiled in the kitchen, and racked her brainsto provide appetizing meals. She spent all her spare time,and that was little enough, browsing over a cookery- book,and Eve helped her whenever possible, in addition toordering supplies, laying tables in the dining-room,checking bed-linen, rearranging flowers, and keeping anaccount of their expenditure. At first she had been unwillingto discuss the subject of a fixed weekly tariff for her guests,but Martin Pope had settled this question for her, verygenerously, and it would be a less difficult problem to copewith in the future, when fresh guests arrived.

Martin Pope was quite certain she would have plenty of

guests as time went on and Treloan Manor became known.He himself had plenty of friends whom he said he would goout of his way to persuade to stay there, and discreetadvertising would do the rest. A little patience in thebeginning, no attempt to run before they could walk, and therewards would be swift and sure.

“You don’t realize what an asset you have in the houseitself,” he said, more than once. “It's so peaceful andtucked-away, and mellow and gracious. And even morethan that, it’s beautifully appointed. I don’t wonder thatneighbor of yours wanted to buy it,” for she had let him intothe secret of Roger Merlin’s covetousness, “but don’t youever let him have it! Your uncle left it to you, and you stick toit!”

“I will if I can make it pay,” she promised.

“Oh, you’ll make it pay all right!”

His eyes rested upon her, with a warm, encouraging light inthem, and she felt that if he had belief in her she could havebelief in herself. She would make it pay!

The weather, after that stormy night, became absolutelyperfect, and the days as they drifted by were mellow andgolden. The garden became a sea of blossom, and thescent of it invaded the house. The nights were full of thatsoft, silken warmth which is so typical of the West Country

in spring, and the stars and a young moon looked downupon the restless, slowly surging sea.

Every evening after dinner, while Aunt Kate retired to theirlittle sitting-room and got to work upon a hundred and onelittle odd jobs, and Chris Carpenter went upstairs to herroom and flung herself full length upon her bed while herwireless-set played dance music, Eve, as the actualhostess of Treloan, went out into the serenity of the nightwith Martin Pope — sometimes also accompanied by hisson — and walked with him along the cliff path to the clifftop, and they stood together and looked down upon thatsilver-colored immensity.

Mrs. Neville Wilmott, once she made up her mind toforsake her own room, preferred the quiet dignity of thedrawing-room, and Dr. Craig laid out endless patiencecards in front of the small log fire which always smoulderedthere after tea.

Only Ann Wilmott seemed alone in the truest sense of theword, and unable to concentrate her mind on anything thatwould offer her diversion. Her mother urged her to play thepiano or to do her knitting, or to read or something; but Annseemed to prefer sitting silently and staring into space —unless Laurence Pope entered the room, when she sat andstared at him instead. But Laurence was so self- containedand grave, and addicted to burying himself in the heaviest-looking tomes, that Eve was afraid his interest in the

opposite sex would be hard to arouse. And certainly it didnot look as if Ann would ever arouse it.

But life flowed along very pleasantly for Eve, alt“I don't know. I don't think so. Unless ... ” He pBut courage came to her before Aunt Kate returned

But life flowed along very pleasantly for Eve, although shewas actually very tired by the time she went to bed, andChris and Aunt Kate were certainly tired as well. But no onecomplained. They were living in Treloan, and the summerwas just around the corner, and they had actually receivedsome further bookings as a result of the campaign ofadvertising which they had started.

And the night of the Grand Opening Dance at the StarkPoint Hotel drew near.

CHAPTER NINE

EVE had seen nothing of Roger Merlin since that nightwhen he had assisted the local lifeboat men to bring MartinPope and his friends ashore from their yacht. Even whenshe had visited The Smuggler in Treloan, where she boughtvegetables from Tom Geake, she had not run up againsthim, and as he and Tom seemed to have a great deal incommon this surprised her a little. But she supposed hewas caught up in all the preparations for a really busyseason.

Martin Pope had collected his car from Falmouth, and in itEve was often driven on her shopping expeditions and onlittle jaunts about the Cornish countryside, with her mostimportant guest. She regarded him as her most important,not only because he was probably far wealthier than any of

the others, but because she was sure that it was hisinfluence which had persuaded the others to stay. And oneday when they were returning from visiting the bank inTruro, he suggested that they drive out to that other extremetip of the bay on which was the Stark Point Hotel.

It was close upon lunch-time when they entered thecourtyard before the hotel, where already severalexpensive- looking cars were-parked. In the great glassed-in verandah which ran along the whole front of the hotelpeople were drinking aperitifs and looking out over brilliantgreen lawns and flower-beds to the sea. They had anunrivalled view, which even Treloan could not better, andwhen, after Martin had suggested that they stay for lunch,they went inside, Eve quickly recognized the fact that itwould be a very long time indeed before Treloan could offerso much sumptuous and yet well-organized luxury to itsguests as which began in the wide, grey-carpetedvestibule, and continued in a wave through public roomsand smaller, private that which they could enjoy at the StarkPoint. Luxury offices and writing-rooms, right through thedepth of the house to the model kitchens, and out into thelavishly cared-for gardens.

An obviously experienced waiter bowed them to their tablein the wide bow-window of the dining-room, and Eve’smorale received a further jolt at the sight of the table’sappointments. Spotless napery and sparkling silver andflowers in a shallow crystal bowl which had taken skilled

hands to arrange — and out-of-season flowers at that!(Probably flown from the South of France!)

“I think,” said Martin Pope, watching her with a faint smile inhis eyes, “that what we need is something to drink. Howabout a dry sherry, followed by a bottle of wine? Waiter,bring me the wine list!”

Eve looked across the table at him and smiled a littleapologetically.

“I was trying to imagine Treloan reaching this pitch ofperfection,” she confessed, “and my imagination justwouldn’t stretch that far!”

“Rubbish!” he rebuked her softly. “Remember, Rome wasn’tbuilt in a day, and the Stark Point has been a flourishingconcern for several years now. Your turn will come! ”

“I hope so,” she said a trifle forlornly, and he gently pushedher glass of sherry closer to her hand.

“Drink it up,” he ordered.

During the course of the meal — and there was no doubtabout it, the Stark Point had a good chef as well as somany other advantages

— Eve was almost, afraid to lift her eyes from her plate incase they suddenly encountered another pair of eyes, as

blue as the sparkling sea outside, watching her with astrong hint of mockery under level black brows.

“What!” the eyes would say. “So you wanted to find out howwe do things here at the Stark Point, did you? And now thatyou’ve found out, how do you feel about it?”

But actually she need not have worried, because RogerMerlin did not appear in the dining-room while they werethere, and as soon as they had had their coffee on theverandah they left. But before they left Martin announced hisintention of buying tickets for the dance for all their party,including Aunt Kate and Chris Carpenter, and as soon asthey got back to Treloan Eve broke the news to her relative.

“Well, now, I think that’s really splendid!” Aunt Kateexclaimed. “A dance — and all of us going! We three, andour five guests! I hope I get a chance to exchange a fewwords with Commander Merlin.” ‘'Why?” Eve askedcuriously.

Aunt Kate smiled a little impishly.

“Oh, just so that I can let him know that, although we're notyet at the top of the tree, we’ve really started to climb.” “Idon’t think that will impress him at all,” Eve said sceptically.“And you haven’t yet seen the Stark Point!” “No, my dear,”Aunt Kate agreed, “but I shall see it quite soon now, and,believe me, it will not depress me in the slightest. My plans

for Treloan are not the kind of plans to be damped by adisplay of ostentation. Treloan, I am sure, would not takekindly to being decked out like one of Brighton’s leadinghotels, with all the amenities of Brighton. Oh, dear me, no!”And she smiled mysteriously.

Eve could not help feeling a certain amount of admirationfor her aunt rise up in her heart — she looked so smuglysure of herself — and she gave her one of her rare hugs.

“Well, perhaps you’re right,” she admitted. “But even if weare going to be frightfully exclusive, we can still take a fewlessons from more vulgar establishments, and I think wecan learn a lot from the Stark Point. So don’t be toosuperior to absorb hints.”

“I’ll try not to be,” Aunt Kate replied. “But they’ll have to, bethe kind of hints I consider worthwhile.”

The afternoon before the dance, Miss Barton made ahurried trip to Truro to buy a new dress for the occasion,and afterwards found time to get her hair attended to. It wasnot often that she paid a visit to a hairdresser’s, and whenshe returned, with a black chiffon evening-gown cut on thesmartest lines, her greying hair had not only been shornrather close to her head, in an up-to-date version of theshingle,

but had been washed and set in attractive waves, as well

as treated to a delicate, lavender-blue rinse which quitedefinitely became her.

Eve at first could only look her astonishment, and then,when she saw the cobwebby hose Miss Barton hadpurchased to wear with the dress, and the little sequin-covered coat she planned to wear over it

— no doubt because the neck-line was a little too low evenfor her sudden emancipation! — she realized that her aunthad obviously made up her mind that the hour had arrivedwhen she must seek to impress. But whether CommanderMerlin or the collection of guests gathered beneathTreloan's dignified roof, she could only guess.

Eve herself had decided on the wearing of a leaf-greenevening gown which had been bought for a rather specialoccasion only a short while before. It was filmy and high-waisted, with a Grecian line about it, and with her Titian hairand creamy skin it made her look like a dryad.

Whilst Aunt Kate went shopping in Truro, Eve spent theafternoon on the beach with Martin Pope. Martin Pope didnot bathe — she wondered whether, perhaps, this wasagainst doctor's orders' — but Eve thoroughly enjoyedherself in the warm, sparkling water, and Martin reclined onthe hard white sand, a pipe gripped between his teeth, andwatched her disporting herself in her brief bathing-costumethe color of an olive.

Eve enjoyed that afternoon on the beach. Somehow, therewas a curious dreamlike quality about, her these days. Shewas not yet completely accustomed to being her ownmistress for one thing, and for another, it would be a verylong while before she became completely accustomed tothe loveliness of Treloan. Treloan in the early mornings,when the mist lay sleeping on the sea; Treloan in the goldenafternoons, and the star-studded evenings. Treloan was atiny niche she had found for herself, which she hoped sheneed never vacate. It was all she would ever want, ordemand of life, she felt sure, if only she could keep it — ifonly the house, the gardens, her sheltered cove, her ownlittle strip of blue sea, could be hers for always!

It was surely not such a tremendous thing to ask of life,when the house had been left to her by her uncle!

At tea-time she climbed back up to the house with Martin,and they had tea with the others, except Aunt Kate, whohad not yet returned from Truro. Tea in the long, lowdrawing-room, where the shadows of late afternoon stoleacross the polished floor, and every vase was filled withflowers. Looking about her as she dispensed tea,

Eve thought that the Stark Point Hotel, for all itsmagnificence, had none of this gracious, period calm, thisdignified elegance which no guests could shatter. Treloanmight in time become a well-known hotel, but it would stillbe Treloan — if they were careful to preserve the soul of the

house! And it could still be enchanting to visitors, as it wasenchanting to her — and had enchanted even CommanderMerlin.

Aunt Kate was right. Treloan had got something which theStark Point had not. It was no use thinking about turning itinto something which one day might resemble the StarkPoint.

It was, and always would be, Treloan. . . .

She devoted a lot of time to her toilet that night, becauseshe was for some reason excited by the thought of theevening ahead of her, and she wanted to dwell upon it whileshe added the final touches to her appearance.

Not too much lipstick, and no color at all in her smooth, paleface, and only a very light dusting of powder. . .. She wasalready acquiring a coat of tan, as a result of her morningand afternoon bathes, and it suited her. She even had a fewfreckles, pale and golden, scattered across her shapelynose.

Her hair she brushed vigorously until it shone, allowing it towave softly back from her face and form soft curls behindher ears. With the green dress she wore a fine platinumchain about her rounded throat, and attached to the chainwas a delicate ivory cameo. Her feet were encased insilver sandals so fragile that they appeared like the strands

of a silver cobweb criss-crossing her instep.

Aunt Kate came bustling into her room when she wasdressed, and Aunt Kate, the complete transformation, wasenough to take anyone's breath away. Eve gaped at her fora minute before she could believe that it really was AuntKate, and then she clapped her hands together delightedly.

“You look marvellous!” she told her. “Absolutely marvellous.”

Aunt Kate did not appear impressed by the note ofenthusiasm, but she put her head on one side and lookedat her niece critically.

“And you,” she said, “really do look a niece to be proud of!”

“Thank you, Aunt,” demurely.

“Don’t let that Merlin man offer you any of his snubs — if hedeigns to speak to you at all, that is, which he probablywon’t, surrounded by all the magnificence of his hotel andhis multitude of guests! And remember that Martin Popehas more charm in his little finger than the Merlin man hasin his whole arrogant body.”

“Meaning, Aunt ... ?” Eve looked at her coolly.

“Oh, nothing at all, darling, except that I like Martin, and Idon’t like Commander Merlin.”

“But have you forgotten that you said you were going tochange your mind about him, because of his ‘distinctive’bravery the other night? You were quite full of all that he haddone, and even wanted me to bathe his eyes for him! ”

“Which he wouldn't let you do, by the way! Suchindependence puts your teeth on edge! Give me a man likeDr. Craig, who can speak his mind without being rude, andis very much a man’s man while having a weak spot foranything feminine at the same time. A considerate man,too, and willing to do things for one; not stiffnecked andunfriendly, and full of his own importance, and ”

“You do seem to have learned a lot about Dr. Craig in avery short time,” Eve observed, her eye roving again overthe black chiffon evening-gown and the new hair-do. “Surelyall this is not in aid of Dr. Craig?”

“Don’t be so absurd!” her aunt returned shortly but with anexcess of energy, and then turned quickly towards the door.“Come along, or we shall keep the others waiting.” Chrisjoined them in a grey velvet evening-gown which made herlook most un-cook-like, and at the foot of the stairs, in thewide and gracious hall, Mrs. Neville Wilmott, her daughterAnn, Martin and Laurence Pope, and Dr. Craig werewaiting.

Mrs. Neville Wilmott looked positively spectacular. Herdress was pearl-colored net which trailed like moonbeams

on the floor around her, and a beautiful stole of deeppetunia velvet lined with silver brocade was draped abouther shoulders. Ann looked pretty and little-girl-like in thepalest pink organza, with some finely graded pink pearlsabout her childish throat; and as for the men, Martin Popewas easily the most commanding figure amongst them, inhis faultlessly-tailored evening things, although his sonLaurence, with his dark, grave good looks, was by nomeans an unnoticeable figure lurking in his shadow. Evecould not help but observe the way Ann's eyes lit up whenLaurence spoke to her, and when he condescended to helpher on with her cloak the quality of the distinction almostrendered her tongue-tied.

They went out to the two cars which waited for them in thedrive

— Martin Pope's car, in which Eve and Mrs. Neville Wilmottand Aunt Kate travelled, and a car hired specially for theoccasion which conveyed the remainder of the party. Asthey sped down the drive, through the blue dusk of evening,and far away on the distant arm of the bay the lights of theStark Point Hotel blazed like a million triumphant fireflies,Eve felt excitement grip her. But it was excitement whichhad become tempered by nervousness by the time theywere half-way there, and by the time they actually drew upoutside the hotel she was all nervousness.

But Kate could see it in her eyes as they alighted, and she

gripped her arm and whispered:

“Chin up! Remember we’re the party from Treloan!”

Eve managed a smile.

The party from Treloan! That sounded almost imposing!And yet, somehow the thought steadied her nerves, for afterall five of that party were guests, and that wasn't so bad fora beginning! Five perfectly presentable, solidly placedguests who might very soon double themselves andbecome ten! And ten guests might become twenty . . . . - !

She caught sight of a tall man in evening-dress standingjust inside the entrance, a light shining down upon his darkhead, beautifully brushed and sleek and almost elegant. Hewore a white tie and tails, and he was bending to speakwith a gushing elderly lady sparkling with rhinestones whowas presenting a bevy of sparkling daughters. There was agreat deal of bowing and smiling on his part; nothing in theleast saturnine about his smile tonight, at least, not until helooked up and saw Aunt Kate offering him her hand. Then,almost instantly, the mocking lift of one eyebrow, thequizzical quirk of a mouth slightly deformed by a quitenoticeable scar, and the slow insolent drawl:

“I had no idea I was to be so honored! My bitterest rivals!How nice to see you, Miss Barton!”

Eve felt the color pouring into her face as she met his eyes.

It was, she felt certain, hot, scalding, noticeable color, and,worse than anything else, his eyes seemed to be positivelydancing with amusement. And yet the clasp of his hand washard and somehow sustaining. . . .

C H A P T E R T E N

EVE had danced a good many dances with Martin Pope,Dr. Craig, and even Laurence Pope. Being rather out ofpractice, she felt suddenly tired and footsore, and stoleaway to the ladies’ cloakroom to repair the ravages to hermakeup and take a seat in a corner in order to give her feeta rest.

How packed it was in the ballroom, and what a brilliantthrong, she thought, as she smeared cleansing cream onher face —

wonderfully restoring after the heat, and the press,downstairs! Really, the Stark Point had a most magnificentballroom, and it must always have been used for aballroom, judging from its dimensions, and in particular thedistance between the highly polished floor and the vastopen space far away above the heads of even the tallestguests. And it was all so exquisitely decorated, and simplymassed with flowers. No expense spared! And the bandwas a famous one, and living well up to its reputation.

In the glass, as she completed her fresh make-up, she saw

Annette Le Frere come into the room, and sail away to a farcorner of it, where there was a tall pier-glass. Annette, in aswirling skirt of finely pleated black georgette over peach-pink taffeta, with bare shoulders and a spray of deep pinkorchids pinned to the base of her brief corsage, lookedabsolutely enchanting, and every golden hair on her headshone. But Eve did not wish to be noticed by her just then,and, as soon as the French girl began to fumble in herelaborate vanity-case, Eve rose and tip-toed carefully out ofthe cloakroom, closing the door very quietly behind her, andstole away down the deserted main staircase before shecould be recognized.

They were playing a waltz in the ballroom, and the strains ofit came softly to her ears as she slipped out into the greatglassed-in verandah, which looked out over the sea, andfelt a sensation of relief well over her because it was empty.Empty, and wide, and cool, and moonlit, apart from the walllights glowing in a subdued fashion, like pale

tulips, above the discreetly arranged groups of chairs andtables. Eve sank down into a little wicker arm-chair and,leaning her elbows on a green painted table, lookedtowards the shimmering line of sea and the stars that weretwinkling away up in a wide arc of deep night sky.

What a wonderful night it was! And what a perfect place thiswas to sit, and reflect, and . . .

''Don’t tell me, Miss Petherick,” said an amused voicebehind her, “that you're trying to emulate Cinderella? Or awallflower! Not in that dress, and when I've seen you beingwhirled off your feet by that energetic gentleman werescued from the ocean not many nights

ag°?”

Eve spun round as if shot, and looked at him, startled. In thedim light her skin looked extraordinarily clear and pale, andher grey eyes were wide and distended.

“Commander Merlin!”

“Don’t you think we might dispense with the formality of the“Commander?” he asked as he seated himself beside her.“After all, I’ve met you — let me see, five times now? andwe’re such near neighbors, and business rivals, and soforth. Most of my friends call me Roger, but then, of course,in view of the fact that we are rivals, you might possiblyfeel... ”

What she felt was that he was laughing at her, choosing tobe amused by the complete absurdity of classing her as abusiness rival, when the truth was that she could never hopeto compete with him in anything at all that required financialbacking, profound knowledge, and even profounderexperience. He had the advantage of her all along the linewhen it came to the question of running an hotel, and he

must be very much amused by her puny efforts to turnTreloan into a thriving establishment of that sort. The partyfrom Treloan! Five guests, and almost the entire hotel staff,compared with the brilliant planning, the years of thoughtand risky venture, the splendor and opulence of StarkPoint! No wonder he laughed at her!

“I don’t think you need me to tell you that we shall never bebusiness rivals,” she replied with a stiffness that made hervoice sound frigid.

“Don’t I?” He offered her his cigarette-case, and thenapplied a match to the end of her cigarette. In the uncertainflame his eyes seemed to be watching her closely andthrough slightly narrowed lids. “But you do aspire tobecome an hotelier, don’t you?”

“I aspire merely to make a living out of a house that was leftto me by my uncle,” she told him, giving careful emphasis toeach word. “With the help,” she added, “of my aunt.”

“Ah, yes, of course, we mustn’t forget the excellent MissBarton!” He was lying back lazily in his chair, his eyes stillflickering over her. “And I really do think she’s a woman ofextraordinary character, and extraordinarily able, as well.The other night, for instance, when those people from theyacht were suddenly forced on you, the way she rose to theoccasion was really admirable. I couldn’t help feeling agreat deal of admiration for the astute method in which she

marshalled all her

— or, rather, your forces, and saw to it that they were madethoroughly comfortable in as short a time as possible. I’msure they were tremendously grateful.”

“They were,” she agreed, but unable to free her-voice fromthat note of stiffness. “And I think they’re staying on as amark of their gratitude,” she added with disturbing honesty.

“Oh, I don’t know.” There was a faintly whimsical note in hisvoice as he flicked the ash from his cigarette. “You’ve gotquite a lot at Treloan, you know — even apart from thehouse and its setting. The place has atmosphere, for onething, and then you’re probably quite a charming hostess.Mr. Martin Pope is probably not unappreciative of that fact.”

“What do you mean?” She looked at him with wide,challenging eyes.

“Oh, nothing very much.” He shrugged his shoulders slightly.

“But Mr. Pope is, I believe, almost if not quite a millionaire,with few ties, and therefore able to suit himself and lingeron in one spot for as long as it pleases him to do so. He notsurprisingly has found Treloan to his taste, and as a resultof that his friends have also found it to their taste — for ifthere is one thing a rich man can do it is command theobedience of his friends! And you and your aunt findyourselves fairly busy, which is all to the good, for you may

yet be busier still!”

She still could not be sure whether or not he was merelymocking her, and when he laughed suddenly, a low, ratherpleasant, and definitely humorous laugh, and leaningforward laid one of his lean, brown, well-cared-for handsvery lightly over both of hers, that were resting idly in herlap, and patted them gently, she was so astonished thatshe could only stare at him almost in disbelief.

“I want to apologize,” he said, “for the other night, andshutting you up in my car. On reflection, I have decided thatyou had every right to feel resentful. After all, as youremarked, Jocelyn mighthave taken a dislike to you,although I can’t imagine either him or anybody else doinganything quite as positive as that! ”

All at once the tension she had been so strongly aware of inhis presence went out of her, and with an extraordinaryfeeling of thankfulness, even gratitude, for this abruptalteration in his manner, she relaxed, lying back in her chairand smiling up at him very faintly.

“Oh, I wasn’t in the least afraid of him — not really. But hegrowled every time I so much as shifted my foot, and thenwhen he fell asleep he snored. I’ve never heard a dog snorelike that before” she confessed.

“Haven’t you?” He laughed again, more heartily. “Oh,

Jocelyn’s quite a character, and one of the most misleadingthings about him is that despite the pugnacity of hisappearance, he’s really extraordinarily lamb-like. In fact, Idon’t think he could ever be persuaded to do anything soviolating to his feelings as bite anyone, although his growls,especially on the back seat of a car, are admittedly ratheralarming. But he knew that I wanted you kept

there, and so there you stayed!”

“Yes; there I certainly stayed.” She found herself joining inhis laughter, for the first time seeing the humorous side of asituation that had kept her a prisoner for over an hour withan unseen canine jailor who probably would not haveoffered any real objection had she been sufficiently strong-minded to suddenly leap out of the car and defeat him.

“All the same, I hope you’ll accept my apology, and — myapologies for a certain amount of rudeness on my part atthe beginning of our acquaintance!”

“Oh!” This took her so much aback that a pulse like a small,startled bird began to flutter wildly in her throat, and acurious feeling of excitement sped up and down her veins.“We did have rather a — bad beginning didn’t we?”

“We did,” with a certain amount of grimness in his tone.“But that was largely because I’ve never been accustomedto being thwarted, and I’d rather set my heart on acquiring

Treloan. But it’s your house, and you’ve a perfect right tohang on to it if you want it.”

“Even though it’s not my true background, and I never reallyknew my Uncle Hilary?” a little dryly.

“Even though I don’t believe you’ve ever been to Cornwalluntil this spring, and I think it’s almost certain you’re goingto run into big difficulties in the way of running it as an hotel,guest-house, private house, or whatever you may havedecided upon — before you’re finished!”

“That’s rather a gloomy prediction, isn’t it?” she asked,studying his face in the moonlight and thinking that, despitethe scar his face in the moonlight and thinking that, despitethe scar and the faint red mark over his left eye where hehad received that further injury on the night of the storm, hiswas a strangely arresting face and a by no meansunattractive one. Indeed, with those extraordinarily brilliantblue eyes under almost feminine eyelashes, and thatsquare chin, and well-cut mouth, and faintly-arrogant nose,it was a face it might be difficult to forget —if one everwanted to forget it! And he certainly looked remarkably wellin evening-dress, clean-limbed, and beautifully groomed,and broad-shouldered.

She looked away from him rather hastily, afraid he mightthink that she was studying him deliberately (which, as amatter of fact, she was), and he tossed away the end of his

cigarette and mechanically lighted another.

“Perhaps,” he agreed. “But I’m afraid you’ll discover too latethat I really know what I’m talking about!”

“All the same,” she replied, “having made up my mind, Idecline to be put off. It’s one of my failings that I seldom

listen to advice, and I particularly object to having advicethrust at me. And I’m afraid that my aunt has those failingsas well.”

“And your uncle certainly had them! But he hadn’t red hair,like you.”

“Is it red?” She looked up at him with her serene grey eyes,and her red lips had a tantalizing little upward quirk of asmile clinging to them.

“Not at this moment,” studying her over the glowing end ofhis cigarette. “At this moment it looks rather more like amisty web of moonlight; but in daylight it’s quite flagrantlyred — or that’s the way I’d describe it. You probably preferto hear it described as Titian?”

Her smile increased.

“So it’s my red hair you object to ?”

“I don’t object to anything. I’m merely trying to advise you.”

“That’s really kind. But I’m afraid I’m already committed.”

“You mean that that fellow Pope, with his superabundanceof idle

wealth, is willing to ------------------------- ”

They both heard footsteps away at the far end of theverandah, and within a matter of seconds the footsteps hadcome flying towards them, tap-tapping lightly over the floor.Annette Le Frere looked like a flaxen-headed wraith in themoonlight, but her expensive Paris perfume had noconnection with wraiths. Her expression was a triflepetulant, as if she was not too pleased, and she looked atEve with rather coldly upraised eyebrows, plainly surprisedto find that it was she who had been detaining the owner ofthe place and keeping him from his guests.

“I could not think where you were, Rogaire!” She stuck outher scarlet lower lip and frowned down at him as sheseated herself lightly on the arm of his chair. “It is time nowfor our next dance, or it will be very soon! And I think itbetter to come and find you!” “What a pest you are,Annette!” he observed, a little coolly, although Eve did notfail to notice that his upward glance at her was tolerant,amused, and rather more than affectionate. “I told youearlier that I’m not dancing any more with you tonight. Youtry to inveigle me into new and barbaric steps which I knownothing about, and I absolutely refuse to make another

exhibition of myself in the middle of my own dance floor.Now run away, like a good child, and find someone youngerto amuse yourself with.”

“But there is no one . . .” pouting afresh.

“On the contrary, there are at least half a dozen young menhere tonight who are simply dying for the opportunity todance with you, and you know it. Away with you!”

“Well, there is Laurence Pope” — Eve was surprised thatLaurence had lost so little time in getting acquainted withher—”and he is dark, and quite good-looking, but, oh, sograve! But even so, he dances well, much better than you,Rogaire!” giving him a playful push with her white, scarlet-tipped fingers, and then running those same fingers with aslow, caressing movement down one side of his dark,slightly swarthy face.

“Well, that’s perfectly all right by me,” he answered. “I’ve toldyou I don’t want to dance.”

“But you-will perhaps dance with Miss Petherick?” lookingat Eve suspiciously.

“Well, now, that’s quite an idea!” Commander Merlinanswered. He looked across at Eve, one of his darkeyebrows lifted questioningly

— a little quizzically, too, she thought. The strains of dance

music readied them from the ballroom, the softened,seductive strains of an old-fashioned waltz tune, andsuddenly he stood up. “What about it, Miss Petherick?” heasked. “Have you any objection?”

“Why, I-” she was beginning, when she saw Annette turnaway

with a very French gesture of her shoulders, followed by asmall stamp of her foot, after which she flew away fromthem again down the length of the verandah and burstthrough the swing doors into the hotel proper. They heardthe swing doors clash together, and then once more therewas silence, broken only by Roger Merlin’s short laugh.

“These Continentals!” he observed. “They have too muchLatin temperament.”

Eve felt uncomfortable. Annette might have been reallyangry.

“Will you dance?” he asked, looking at her keenly. “Or haveyou had too many dances already?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I----------“ She stood up. “Yes,

thank you, I would like to dance.”

“Good!” he exclaimed. He slipped a hand lightly inside herarm and guided her away down the length of the verandah,

and when they reached the fringe of the ballroom floor hetook her in his arms. Eve went into them with anunaccountable feeling like breathlessness.

It was not true, she thought, as they circled the floor, that hewas a bad dancer. He was almost a perfect dancer, andtheir steps matched in such a way that it was a joy to havehim for a partner. Her head reached almost to his black-clad shoulder, her swirling green skirts drifted against himas they glided, in perfect harmony, to the tune of theseductive waltz. When she lifted her head and looked up athim his eyes were watching her, deep blue, unfathomableeyes with a tiny spark of humor lurking somewhere at theback of them.

“I hardly expected to have this pleasure this evening,” hetold her. 'The lamb putting its head into the lion's mouth!”

“And I'm the lamb?”

“Yes; and I'm the lion!”

Her white eyelids were suddenly lowered. His firm armsupported her with complete adequacy.

As the music ceased Martin Pope was waiting to demandanother dance.

“I couldn't think where on earth you were hiding yourself,” hesaid, his kindly grey eyes looking down at her in a slightly

speculative fashion.

Eve did not dance again that night with Commander Merlin,but when Mrs. Neville Wilmott was introduced to him shesuddenly discovered that they were old friends, andimmediately claimed him as such. If he was not quite asdelighted at this unexpected encounter as she was, he wascertainly polite, and he danced two dances with Mrs.Wilmott, and one with her daughter, Ann. Poor Ann hadbeen too shy and tongue-tied up till then to have excitedmuch competition amongst the younger men to secure heras a partner, and she was obviously grateful for the way inwhich Roger Merlin, despite his sophistication and hisexalted position as the owner of the hotel, had put himselfout to talk to her and break down the barrier of her shyness.

Aunt Kate danced away indefatigably with Dr. Craig

— or they danced until he decided that it would be infinitelymore comfortable if they sat quietly in the verandah, whenshe listened to the story of his life with all the sympatheticattention that was necessary. But before she left theballroom she looked meaningfully at Eve, about to take tothe floor with an unknown young man who had requestedher to partner him in a tango.

“I saw you dancing with Commander Merlin, and you lookedalmost as if you were enjoying it!” she whispered. “Don’t tellme you’re no longer enemies?”

Eve had no time to answer her just then, for the tango wasbeginning, her new partner was no mean exponent, andshe was swept away to the music of “Jealousy” with therealization that she

had better give her mind to what was going on around heror find herself in difficulties. But later on, during a breathingspace, she thought of Aunt Kate’s question:

“Don’t tell me you’re no longer enemies?”

Were they, she wondered, enemies? Or what were they?

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THE following morning, down on the beach in gloriousspring sunshine, Mrs. Neville Wilmott, in a gaily-coloredbeachwrap, wearing sun-glasses and with a huge straw hatprotecting her flawless magnolia complexion from theserious menace of suntan, offered up a tribute to RogerMerlin which caused Eve to wonder just how well she hadknown him in the past.

“A man with a curious kind of fascination, although not, bythe accepted standards, handsome. I knew him when myhusband was stationed in Hong-Kong and he was aSubLieutenant. But the last time I saw him he was ..transferring to Submarines, and his war-time record, as aresult of that transfer, was quite spectacular, I believe. But,

then, I always thought there was something spectacularabout Roger — in a dignified way, of course. He's nothing ifnot conventional, as most sailors are. The Nelson breed ofmen, you know!”

“But Nelson was not strictly conventional,” Eve remindedher. “Otherwise we should not have heard so much aboutLady Hamilton!”

Mrs. Neville Wilmott glanced at her sideways, a thoughtsuperciliously. Eve was wearing a simple cotton dress, witha rather faded cardigan draped about her shoulders, buther hair was a living flame of red in the sunshine, anddespite the fact that she took no care at all with hercomplexion, it had the smooth, matt surface of a piece ofsun- ripened fruit, and was as creamily pale as anyonecould desire.

Mrs. Neville Wilmott recollected that Lady Hamilton had hadred hair, and decided that although Eve was quite an ablehostess she could never feel positively drawn towards her.And she delved in her large, embroidered beach-bag andproduced a bottle of sun-tan lotion which she dabbed allover her exposed — and still very shapely —legs and arms.

“But the poor lamb had a simply ghastly time in the war, andthat’s why he had to leave the Service. And that must havebeen a blow.”

“You mean he was injured in some way?”

“A leg injury, yes. Probably you haven’t noticed that helimps a little?”

“Well, as a matter of fact, I haven’t,” Eve confessed. Itcertainly hadn’t affected his dancing, but that was different.Then she realized that she had been so preoccupied withthe antagonism with which Roger Merlin had filled her thatshe had had no time to observe very much else about him.Until last night! She had taken rather a different view of himlast night!

And that set her thinking suddenly along quite differentlines. That night when she had burst in through the doorwayof The Smuggler, and they had had their first encounter withone another on the fringe of the tiny hall, and he had beenso almost savagely rude to her. Was it possible that, whenshe thrust the door open unexpectedly, it had caught him aglancing blow on his injured leg, and being, as Mrs. Wilmotthad just described him, “one of the Nelson breed”, hischoler had risen easily and he had all but flayed her alive?In fact, had she been a man, he would probably have said agreat deal more!

But that was the truth, she felt she could forgive him. “Iwould like to ask him to lunch one day,” Mrs. Wilmottcontinued, lighting a cigarette but not offering Eve one fromher expensive gold case. “Ann was quite charmed with him

last night, and I do want her to meet people. She’s sodreadfully retiring, and it isn’t good for her. Perhaps youcould see to it that we have something rather special oneday soon? I’ll get him on the telephone and find out when hecan be free.”

“Why, of course,” Eve was beginning, when, happening toglance upwards, she noticed that a big cream car hadcome to a standstill on the cliff road, and a man and a dogwere making their way down the rough-hewn pathway whichwas a kind of natural stairway leading to the beach. Theman was tall and wore a light, well-tailored suit, and the dogwas large and cumbersome, very definitely a bulldog, andheld in on a leash.

Eve stood up.

“I don’t think it will be necessary for you to get CommanderMerlin on the telephone,” she said. “Here he is now.”

“What!” Mrs. Wilmott hastily replaced the sun-tan lotion inher bag, and looked round in disbelief. Then she whippedoff her dark glasses and smiled enchantingly with her Dig,mysterious eyes. “Why, how nice!” she exclaimed. “Howreally nice, Roger! And just as we were talking about you!”

“Were you?”

He stood looking down upon them, a cool smile in his eyes,while

Jocelyn made some disdainful grimaces which permittedhis two incisor teeth to become very noticeable, andblinked his slightly rheumy eyes at Eve. She decided that itwas time for them to become better acquainted, andkneeling down in front of him extended a slim, tanned,hand, whereupon Jocelyn provided her with a massive paw.

“That’s better, old chap!” Eve said. ''Now we really knowone another.”

As she stood up again Mrs. Neville Wilmott regarded herwith some astonishment, but she obviously had no intentionof copying her example.

“I remember you had a dog in Hong-Kong, Roger,” shesaid. “A mastiff, I believe it was. You always seem to go infor big dogs — awkward dogs, I’d call them.”

“But then you’re not very big yourself, are you?” heobserved, his glance running over her slender form,swathed in the bright-hued beach-wrap; as her pansy-darkeyes were lifted again to his face, the smile in thembecame positively brilliant.

“Not very,” she agreed very softly. “Just tall enough to reachto a tall man’s heart, as my husband used to say!”

He regarded her for a moment without making any reply,and during that moment the expression on his face was

most difficult to read — in fact, Eve would have described itas inscrutable. Then he put a hand in his pocket andproduced a wisp of lace-edged, cambric handkerchief, withthe initials E.P. finely worked in one corner, and handed itto Eve.

“You left this under your chair- on the verandah last night,”he told her.

“Oh, did I?” For no reason that she could think of sheflushed delicately pink under his eyes, and became all atonce confused. “But you need not have bothered to return it.I’m not as short of hankies as all that! But, all the same, it'snice of you. Thank you very much!” she finished.

He did not answer her, but turned back to Mrs. Wilmott withone of his dark eyebrows lifted inquiringly.

“You said you were talking about me,” he reminded her.“Quite a lot to my discredit, I imagine?” in a somewhatpronounced and very cool drawl.

“Oh, not at all,” she assured him emphatically. “In fact, quitethe contrary! We were discussing your splendid wartimerecord, and things like that.” He did not appear greatlyimpressed, and she went on: “And I was saying I wanted toask you to lunch one day, when you were not too busy. Nowthat you’ve gone in for this hotel running, I know that you’revery much occupied, but you must have some spare time.

You’re not always concerned with affairs connected withpeople’s meals, and their sleeping arrangements, andamusements, and so forth. And, by the way, it was a mostenjoyable dance last night. Ann simply loved it.”

She looked round as her daughter, who had beenimproving her over-arm stroke under the kindly supervisionof Martin Pope, approached rather shyly over the sand,wearing a sky-blue swim-suit, which made the most of herslightly immature proportions. Martin, who was a strongswimmer, was still cleaving a way through the water.

“Ah, darling, here you are!” Mrs. Wilmott exclaimed, to allintents and purposes the devoted mother. “Come and tellCommander Merlin how much you enjoyed last night!”

Eve interposed hurriedly:

“Perhaps Commander Merlin would stay to lunch today?”She had suddenly recollected that Tom Geake had sentthem up some fine lobsters, and there was some coldchicken, and the remains of a particularly succulent braceof roast ducks. “If he can spare the time? And if,” sheadded, '“he doesn't mind a very simple and ordinary lunch?”

“Thank you,” he replied, and addressed his reply to her. “I'dlike to very much, if it won’t be causing you too muchtrouble?”

“No trouble at all,” she assured him. She was anxious to

escape and leave them to a chat about old times. She feltsure that Mrs. Wilmott was simply dying to have him toherself, and no doubt to relive over and over again aprobably quite exciting period they had passed throughtogether in Hong-Kong, when Mrs. Wilmott must have beenan extraordinarily lovely young mother and Roger Merlin aconfident and lively young Sub-Lieutenant “Then if you'llexcuse me, I’ll just let them know up at the house.” “Ofcourse, my dear,” Mrs. Wilmott answered carelessly, andslid a hand inside Roger's arm and started to lead himaway along the beach. He looked over his shoulder at Eve.

“Remember — no special preparations! he called after her,and she smiled and disappeared up the cliff.

“No special preparation!” she said to herself as sheclimbed. When the ex-arch-enemy was coming to lunch,and somehow he had to be impressed! What would AuntKate have to say about the unexpected luncheon guest?

Aunt Kate was in the drawing-room when she reached thehouse, shaking her head over a smashed china ornamentwhich she was endeavoring to restore to its original andpristine loveliness.

“That new girl, Betty Forster, is hopeless!” she said. “Shehas about as much respect for Dresden as I have for aheap of rubbish! Just look at this—and the old tale about itcoming apart in her hands when she was dusting!”

“Oh, never mind that now!” Eve sounded impatient and shelooked almost excited. “Commander Merlin is coming tolunch, and I want to make sure that everything is as nice aspossible.”

“What!” Aunt Kate very nearly dropped the ornament afresh,and then she set it down carefully on a Buhl cabinet.

“Coming to lunch? Here? But why? How? Who invitedhim?”

“I did — or, at least, Mrs. Neville Wilmott suggested it first,and then I suggested today because I remembered thelobsters Tom sent up last night. But do come through to thedining-room and let’s see what we can do about the tablearrangements. And don’t you think we ought to get out thebest glass, that lovely, glowing Venetian glass we've beentoo scared to use yet? And I think the Minton china.” “Well,upon my word!” Aunt Kate exclaimed, looking at her with aslightly quizzical expression on her face. “If I were a vulgarsailorman, I'd say 'Blow me down!’ Only a few weeks agoyou were all for throwing the Commander out on his ear ifhe ever dared to place his unwary nose inside this houseagain, and now you’re anxious to place the fatted calfbefore him and goodness knows what else! Is this the resultof dancing with him last night?”

“Don’t be silly,” Eve answered shortly, feeling a mostabsurd flush rise up in her cheeks and declining to meet her

aunt’s eyes. “Of course it’s only because I’ve seen the waythey do things at the Stark Point, and I can’t help regardinghim as a rival. You may be sure he thinks we don’t know thefirst thing about running an hotel.”

“Well, darling, if that’s the way you feel, we’ll try to convincehim that we do.” But Miss Barton’s rubicund countenancewas still creased in faintly humorous lines as she bent tounearth the Venetian glass from the dining room sideboard.“This stuff is terribly dusty. It’ll all

have to be washed and polished beforehand ----- ”

“I’ll do it,” Eve offered eagerly, “if you’ll do the flowers.”

“No, my pet, you can do the flowers — something ratherspecial for the Commander’s table?” looking up at herniece with her twinkling eyes, and thinking that Eveappeared positively excited. “And perhaps you” decidewhat we’re going to put inside the glasses? I believe

they’ve quite an extensive wine-cellar at the Stark Point,and no doubt our guest is used to something a little moreexciting than cooking sherry and Madeira. I believe Mr.Pope ordered a case of

Sauterne, and there’s some gin here------------------”

“We’ll borrow a bottle of Sauterne, and the gin will do forcocktails,” Eve decided. “I’ll mix them. If they’re undrinkable,

that will be my fault and no one else’s.”

“It certainly will,” Aunt Kate agreed.

“And the rest of the meal we can safely leave to Chris. Shealways rises to the occasion.”

“As to that,” Aunt Kate replied, “we can but keep our fingerscrossed, for even Chris is liable to her bad days. But we’llhope that this will not be one of them.”

Eve echoed her hope fervently. She felt that it would be toohumiliating if anything went wrong with either thepreparation or the service of lunch today. If she should seea look of faint amusement, not unmixed, perhaps, with alook of faint pity, in the sea-blue eyes of Roger Merlin, andin her own dining-room, too, she felt that life for the timebeing would be insupportable. For he would concludeimmediately that she was not even capable of carrying outher boasts. He would regard her as pathetic. And her pridecould not stand that.

C H A P T E R T W E L V E

BUT so far as the lunch was concerned, she need not haveworried. It was a complete success. The lobstermayonnaise was perfect, the sweet which followed the coldroast duck served with crisp hearts of lettuce and somevery early green peas was a dream of whipped cream andfeathery- light pastry, and the coffee which was served

afterwards on the terrace as good as Continental coffee.

Chris had risen to the occasion nobly, and Eve felt deeplythankful to her in her heart. She and Aunt Kate sat at asmall corner table in the dining-room, while CommanderMerlin — as the important guest

— shared the great rosewood table with Mrs. Wilmott andthe rest of Martin Pope’s party. On both tables the flowerswere arranged so that the somewhat commonplacevarieties were scarcely noticed, while little feathery trails offern and young green leaves had been skillfully introduced.And nothing could have outshone the silver or dimmed thesplendor of the Venetian glass — Eve saw Roger Merlincarefully examining his glass in the sunlight which streamedthrough the great window, and attracting the attention ofMrs. Wilmott to its

perfection. And as for the table linen, it was utterlyimmaculate.

The dining-room itself was such a delightful and reposefulroom that it must have been a pleasure for a stranger totake a meal in it, and afterwards, when they made theirmove to the terrace, Commander Merlin commented on itto Eve.

“That is an absolutely perfect room,” he said. “You are wiseto make so few alterations to it.”

“Yes; it is really lovely, isn’t it?” Eve answered, handing himhis coffee, while Mrs. Wilmott lay back in her chair andlooked at her with a frown between her brows as if she waswondering just how soon she was going to remove herselfto the kitchen regions and leave the guests to conduct thekind of conversation they would choose to do if alone.

But Martin Pope drew forward a chair for Eve, and Dr.Craig was quick to thrust one beneath Aunt Kate’s quitegenerous bulk, while Martin Pope observed:

“It was nice to have you two ladies with us in the diningroom today. Why don’t you treat us to the same pleasureevery day?”

“I entirely agree!” Dr. Craig supported him heartily.

Martin Pope offered a cigar to Roger Merlin.

'They're good,” he said. “Years ago, when I was a youngand struggling apprentice, I. dreamed of the day when Iwould sit back and smoke a cigar of this quality on aterrace such as this. And there were times, believe me,when it looked very much as if that day would never dawn!But it did,” he added, triumphantly, surrounding himself witha cloud of fragrant cigar smoke, “it did!”

The Commander declined the cigar, but he was interestedin the other man’s reminiscences. Mrs. Neville Wilmott, onthe other hand, although she had enjoyed the hospitality of

the other hand, although she had enjoyed the hospitality ofMr. Pope’s yacht and even occasionally contemplated theidea of becoming more closely attached to Mr. Pope —always provided he himself was willing, and no one whocombined as much wealth as he possessed with an evenbetter background appeared on her immediate horizon —was a little inclined to shudder delicately at revelations ofthis sort. Her first husband had belonged to the “Service”,and was the son of a clergyman who, in his turn, was theson of an impoverished younger son of a peer. And therewere some things people of the better classes did notdiscuss — in public, at least. Certainly not obscurebeginnings, which were in any case better forgotten.

Not that there was anything about Martin Pope whichsuggested that his beginnings were obscure. On thecontrary, he had a certain amount of polish andsophistication, and she quite liked his looks. But she didwish he would keep silent about his early struggles,however much to be admired he was for having overcomeevery difficulty and got to the top. And a very comfortabletop it was, now that he was there! She wished the son,Laurence, would take a little more interest in Ann and thatan engagement might be arranged. It would be a goodthing for Ann to marry money.

But at the moment Ann was deep in a book and Laurencehad gone off on one of his long walks. Commander Merlin,lying-back comfortably in his chair, was enjoying theconversation with Martin Pope, and Eve and her aunt were

listening, too, both obviously quite thrilled by the Popeexploits. Eve actually had a quiet glow of admiration in hergrey eyes, and whenever Martin Pope met them somethingstirred deep down inside him, and he was tremendouslythankful that he had achieved what he had achieved, if forno other reason than that she approved. That she couldlook at him like that

— with those clear grey eyes so warm and understandingand ready to applaud him! No shrinking from the picture ofthe slightly uncouth boy who taught himself at night-schoolsand spent every penny he earned on providing himself withtext-books. No dislike of his slight North-country accent,which became more noticeable when he was excited orconscious of holding an audience.

And she was struggling hard, too. He wanted to help her —he meant to help her, in every way he could, so that shecould go on living in this house she loved, and everybodymust love, because it was so superbly situated, with thesea crooning away down there at the foot of the cliffs.

Roger Merlin exhaled a cloud of cigarette-smoke, andlooked through it at Eve, leaning a little forward with herelbows on her knees and her chin cupped in her hands.There was a faint glow of color in her cheeks, and her lipswere slightly parted, while she seemed to be hanging onPope’s every word and watching him as if fascinated.

“But I mustn’t go on boring you like this!” the industrialistexclaimed suddenly. “I do apologize, Miss Petherick.”

“You haven’t bored me,” Eve assured him quiteemphatically. Then she gave vent to a little sigh. “But I mustbestir myself and go and get on with a few important jobs.”She looked towards Commander Merlin a little shyly. “Willyou remain to tea, Commander Merlin?”

“Yes, of course you will, Roger,” Mrs. Wilmott answered forhim. “Your hotel will get on quite well without you for oneday, and it’s good to let things slide sometimes, anyway.And now I'm going to get my knitting-bag, and then we’ll goback down to the beach. You’ll come with me, won’t you,Roger?”

She didn’t wait for him to answer, but disappeared upstairsto her bedroom, and Eve stood up and returned to thedining-room. Roger Merlin followed her.

'I’d like to congratulate you on that lunch,” he said. “It wasexcellent.”

Eve came to a halt beneath a portrait of one of herancestors whom she knew little about, and turned gracefullyto face him.

“Was it?” She looked quite genuinely pleased by thepraise. “But that was really due to Chris — Chris Carpenter,you know, our absolutely first-class cook. You met her last

night.”

“Did I?” But he was surveying her rather intently. The ladybehind her, in the portrait, had the same extraordinarilybeautiful hair, and the same upward tilt to her chin andclear, almost transparent, skin. And he had accused her ofbeing an interloper! Of having no background! “But thegeneral running of the place is your job, isn’t it?”

“Well, we all do a little bit of everything,” she admitted. “Ourstaff isn’t the kind of staff you can trust just yet — in fact, ournew 'daily’ broke a particularly precious vase this morning!But no doubt we’ll get them trained in time. And in themeantime it’s all hands to the pump.”

“Anyway, you’re managing remarkably well. Mycongratulations were quite sincere.”

“Thank you,” she said. She felt a little confused. “I — I’mgoing to have a look at a cottage this afternoon. It isn’texactly a lodge, although it’s on the estate, and it’s notgrand enough for a dower-house, but Aunt Kate and I havedecided that, if we want to do the best we can with thishouse, it would be a good idea to live in the cottage. And Iwant to find out how much furniture it will take, and what itspossibilities are. So, if you’ll forgive me for rushing away-”“I’ll come with you,” he said in the kind of voice whichbrooked no argument. “I think I remember the cottage. It’squite an attractive place, and I’d like to see it again.”

“But — but Mrs. Wilmott-----------?” Eve thought of the

charming widow almost certainly carrying out extensivefacial repairs in the room above their heads in anticipationof the kind of afternoon she could enjoy.

He looked surprised.

“Did you in fact hear me agree to accompany Mrs. Wilmottdown to the beach?” he asked in slightly cold tones.

“Well, not exactly,” she admitted.

“In that case it will not even be necessary for me to makeamends to her at tea. I never allow anyone to plan myafternoons—or any part of my day!—for me. And now,come along! We don’t want to waste any time, and it's aglorious afternoon.” He took her by the arm and impelledher towards the open French window. “Do you mind ifJocelyn comes with us? He needs exercise badly, and, inany case, he’s far too fat.” He whistled sharply, and the bull-dog, who had been slumbering noisily in the shade of astone vase on the terrace, came lumbering awkwardly tomeet them.

It was certainly a perfect afternoon, although with a slighthaze over the sea which might indicate rain on the way, asthe spell of fine weather had been somewhat prolonged.And when they left the gardens immediately surrounding

Treloan Manor and stepped into the shade of a young birchwood, the dimness and coolness which met them were alittle confusing at first after the bright glare of the openlawns and the cliff top.

There was a smell of moist earth and the fragrance ofyoung growing things, and as the path between the treeswas very narrow they had to proceed in single file. Eve wentfirst, her light dress a pale blur in the gloom, the splendor ofher red hair dimmed by the vague twilight which prevailedbeneath the new and tender green that clothed thebranches. Commander Merlin walked immediately behindher, head bent a little to avoid the caress of those samebranches, and Jocelyn, with, many protesting heavybreaths, brought up the rear. Jocelyn preferred the backseat of a comfortable car to unnecessary exercise, and hewas a little surprised at his master’s abrupt decision toindulge in some.

The birch wood extended for quite a considerable distance,and then they were turning inland and a blossom- starred,open field invited them. Beyond the field there was a highhedge, and beyond the hedge there was a deep and shut-in Cornish lane. In the lane there were some twisted Tudorchimneys, and the granite walls of a very ancient house,enclosed in park-like railings. Its tiny garden was neglected,but amongst the harts-tongue ferns and the dock- leavesand the pale celandines and startlingly blue periwinkle therewere some stunted remains of rose-trees, and even a

forlorn tulip or two interspersed with a few wallflowers underthe sheltered south front of the house.

The house, with its single gable, tall chimneys, deep-setwindows and stout front door, looked like the abode ofwitches or at least a fairy-tale cottage. There was nothingpretentious about it, but it had dignity, charm, age, andpicturesqueness, and Eve had already decided that itwould make a very pleasant dwelling. Commander Merlinlooked up at it, leaning on the small iron gate which he hadopened with difficulty.

“Yes; I remember this place,” he said. “When I was veryyoung I used to regard it with a certain amount of awe,because even in those days nobody seemed to care to livein it.”

“I wonder why?” Eve asked.

“Probably because even then it wanted a certain amount ofmoney spent on it to make it habitable, and I recollect youruncle was never very keen on laying out money. He likedkeeping it in the bank and hoping that one day it woulddouble itself.”

Eve said nothing, but she pushed open the door, which wasnot locked, and stepped into the tiny, stone-floored hall.Almost immediately she withdrew again, however, andsomewhat precipitately, because a violent rushing of wings

went past her head.

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “What was that?”

And then she could have taken herself to task severely, andwas acutely embarrassed, because she found that she hadactually caught hold of Commander Merlin’s sleeve and

was clinging to it rather ridiculously. He laughed and placedan arm about her, and looked down at her with a twinkle inhis eyes.

“Only a bat,” he told her. “You must have disturbed it, andthey’re quite blind in the daylight, you know. You’d better letme go first this time, in case there are a few more waitingto receive us, or possibly a few hobgoblins.” He put herquite gently behind him, and she flushed rosily, allowing himto go ahead. “It's pretty dark in here!”

“How silly of me to be frightened by a bat!” she said. “I'msorry I grabbed hold of you like that.”

“Not at all,” he answered, looking back at her with a gooddeal of quiet amusement in his blue eyes. “It might easilyhave been a hobgoblin, you know! ”

She laughed with him, but her color did not die down easily— not even when they were inside, and he had struggledwith some interior shutters before the windows and let in alittle more light. This enabled them to see some perfectly

good panelling, and some floor-boards which, although theywere encrusted with grime, were the width of a stout tree-trunk and as hard and unyielding as iron.

“Beautiful timber, that,” Roger Merlin observed, testing itwith his foot. “Not even any dry-rot!” He looked around himat the walls. “And linefold panelling, too!” “Yes, I realizedthat when I came and had a first look at the place the otherday,” Eve told him.

“Oh! Then you’ve been here before?” His eyes confusedher as they studied her. “Weren’t there any bats on thatoccasion?”

“No, I'm thankful to say!”

He laughed again, solidly.

“What a shame to make capital out of an understandableweakness! Bats are objectionable things.”

“I think it was the suddenness with which it came at me,”Eve defended herself. “I — I wasn’t expecting it.”

He led the way up to the floor above, and they eachadmired the wide window-seats and the diamond-panedlattices. The floors were mostly uneven, and inclined toslope perilously, and there were odd little nooks andcrannies, sudden alcoves, and unexpected short flights ofstairs leading either up or down. In one room there was a

disused rocking-chair standing in front of an old-fashionednursery fire-guard before a cold hearth, and Eve put out ahand and rocked it gently.

“I wonder who used this last?” she said.

“I wonder?” he echoed, and looked at her out of his brillianteyes that had been accustomed to surveying the fardistances.

Before they went downstairs again she said:

“If we’re coming to live here, Aunt Kate and I, we’ll have tomake up our minds to send an army of cleaners over todeal with the place before bringing in furniture. And it mightbe as well to have the roof looked at, and the plumbingarrangements and so forth.”

“I think that is a most necessary precaution,” he agreed.“But, on the whole, I envy you if you’re thinking of living here.If I’d a vacant cottage like this in my grounds, I wouldn’t beliving in the Stark Point. Hotel life becomes a littlenauseating at times, you know, and there’s nothing likeowning the key of your front door and being able to turn itwhen you feel like it.”

“No; I suppose not. Although I hadn’t thought of it like that,”Eve admitted.

“For the very good reason that Treloan Manor is still more

or less your own, but it won’t be if you plan to fill it withguests.”

“If I’m going to keep it at all, I must fill it with guests,” shepointed out to him.

“Is there all that of a must about it?” he asked. They wereback in the little room that was one day to become her andAunt Kate’s sitting-room; his back was to the fireplace, andhe as leaning his broad shoulders against the mantelpiece.“An absolutely indispensable, and quite indisputable,must?”

“Why, what do you mean?” she asked, looking ratherpuzzled. “You said yourself that it would be impossible tomaintain Treloan unless one — did something about it. Andwhat else could one do with Treloan apart from turn it intoan hotel, or a guest-house or something of the sort?” “If Ihad it I should certainly turn it into an hotel,” he admitted atonce. “But,” with a suggestion of the old mocking drawlcreeping back into his voice, and a slightly indolent look inhis eyes, “I am not a girl with an attractive appearance, andfortunate enough to have a whole bevy of shipwreckedpeople seek sanctuary with me in a single night —including amongst them one millionaire! And Mr. MartinPope has fallen in love with Treloan — I can see that!”

“Well, and what of it?” she demanded, still unablealtogether to follow the drift of his remarks. “Mr. Pope does

like Treloan very much, and he is going to do what he canto help me get more guests. He is going up to London nextweek, and he thinks he knows several

people ----------------------------------------------------------- ”

She broke off, suddenly recognizing that there wasmockery in his eyes, and coloring a little.

“Why shouldn’t Mr. Pope fall in love with Treloan?”

“No reason at all,” he answered smoothly. “And there is noreason at all why he shouldn’t fall in love with the owner ofTreloan, and that would simplify the whole matter, wouldn'tit?”

“Oh!” she exclaimed. She was so shocked by his suddenchange of front and the crudeness of his suggestion, thatfor a moment it took her aback and she could say nothing.And then her face flamed and her eyes sent forth sparks. “Ithink that’s a perfectly beastly thing to say,” she said.

“Do you?” He was still leaning against the mantelpiece, andthere was a strange, sardonic look of humor on his face.“But why? You are an extremely attractive young woman,and you do happen to be the owner of Treloan, and MartinPope, as I have already observed, quite noticeably admiresyou! He seems to be settling down quite happily at Treloan,and he’s remarkably pleasant and unusually intelligent, andwith his worldly wealth . . . Well, think of all the things you

could do for Treloan! Much nicer things than running aguesthouse!”

“Perhaps,” she agreed, staring back at him with eyes thatwere suddenly grey and inscrutable.

“In this life it’s important to make sure of essential things,”he told her, smiling at her in his slightly twisted fashion. “It’sabsurd to be too 'nice’, and very few of us can afford to besentimental these days. Quite possibly the Rose of Sharonall but piled up on the rocks here for a specific purpose.”

“Quite possibly,” she echoed him, and turned deliberatelytowards the door.

“I’m afraid I’ve succeeded in making you slightly angry,” heobserved, as he followed her straight back and somewhatrigidly held, slim shoulders in the direction of the hall. “Butthat wasn’t my intention. I merely wanted to be helpful.”

“I’m quite sure you did, Commander Merlin,” she answeredvery dryly, and flashed him a detached, cool smile over hershoulder. “And, who knows, you may have been veryhelpful? My brain doesn’t work as fast as yours in somedirections, but when it does start to work the results aresometimes amazing! And that’s not so surprising when onehas no particular roots or background!”

“At least you’ve got a very good memory,” he remarked,studying her with faint amusement as they walked back

through the wood.

The sudden truce between them was at an end, and theywere back where they started, she thought, as she forgedahead of him between the pale, slim trunks of the gracefulsilver birch trees. The old antagonism — the antagonismwith which they had begun their acquaintance — was aliveonce more, and the friendliness which had existed betweenthem last night and during their walk to the cottage mightnever have been. He was a strangely cynical,unpredictable, and rather unpleasant individual, shethought, making up her mind to have little to do with him inthe future. And she hoped that he was not going to make ahabit of calling upon them at Treloan, or to make Mrs.Neville Wilmott an excuse for observing her futuremovements or the manner in which she ran Treloan.

Without realizing it she walked so quickly ahead of him thathe had to lengthen his stride to keep up with her, and hadshe looked backwards she would have been able toobserve that the increased pace caused him to limpslightly, but the peculiar smile remained in his eyes.

He called out to her suddenly: “You seem to be in a hurry.”

“I am!” she called back. “I have to help with the tea.”

“I don't think I'd better remain to tea,” he told her. “At least, Ithink you'd rather I didn't. . . .”

And then, coming out upon the smooth surface of the lawnbefore the house, they both paused in surprise at the sightof Annette sitting on the stone ballustrade of the terrace andnursing Aunt Kate's dachshund, Sarah, while Mrs. NevilleWilmott sat knitting furiously in a deckchair only a fewpaces away.

C H A P T E R T H I R T E E N

ANNETTE put her head on one side and regarded themsomewhat curiously through eyes crinkled against the glareof the sun as they ascended the terrace steps.

“You have been a very long time away, you two!” she said.“How do you know? Commander Merlin asked, lookingdown at her lazily. “You were not here when we left.”

“No; but I came as soon as you had gone!” Her golden hairfell away from her face as she looked up at him, notapparently interested in his companion. She was wearing abright red fisherman's jersey and some very brief shorts,which allowed her long slim, deeply tanned legs to receiveevery attention from the afternoon sun, as well as someintensely disapproving looks from Mrs. Wilmott, while sheknitted away expertly. As usual, Annette's long, brownhands were scarlet-tipped — the nails a trifle suggestive ofclaws, for she permitted them to grow very long — and acollection of gold bracelets jingled on her arms, including agold charm bracelet which was loaded with charms. She

stroked soothingly, with the tips of her sensitive fingers,while she fastened her eyes upon Roger. “Why did you notlet me know where you were going this morning, Rogaire?Why did you not ask me to accompany you?”

“Because I wasn't particularly anxious for your society, Iexpect,” he answered carelessly, tweaking one of her pink-lobed ears, in which a small pearl stud was fastened.“Because I wanted to escape from your chatter!”

She made a face at him.

“But I found out where you had gone, and I followed you! Ihave been inflicting myself upon Mrs. — Mrs. NevilleWilmott, all the afternoon, and she has been correcting myEnglish for me. She thinks that I do not speak it at all well!”casting a demure look towards Mrs. Neville Wilmott, whothought, amongst other things, that the French girl'sostentatious glamour had the effect of putting her owndaughter’s slightly more anemic charms completely in theshade, and for that reason alone she knew that she couldnever like her.

“I understand from Miss Le Frere that she is over here tostudy English,” Mrs. Wilmott remarked, lifting beautiful cooldark eyes from the lacy pink bed-jacket she was creating.“But I should have thought that a private house and Englishfamily life would have suited her purpose better than anhotel. If I wanted to send Ann to France to improve her

French, I certainly would not place her in a French seasidehotel.” “Run,” she might have added, but did not, as hereyes fixed themselves upon Roger Merlin, “by a bachelor!”

Roger Merlin seated himself and looked slightly amused.He was well aware what the look in her eyes — as well asthe faint hint of rebuke because he had absented himselffor the afternoon

— was meant to convey, and for answer he produced hiscigarette-case and offered it to her, and then offered it toAnnette. He was holding his lighter to the end of Annette'scigarette when Eve, who had hastened indoors to seeabout the afternoon tea, reappeared with the tea-trolley,which she wheeled out on to the terrace.

“Ah, but then you see, Annette is like no ordinary youngEnglishwoman of her age,” he remarked, while Annette’ssparkling and definitely amused eyes gazed into his. “Sheis a law unto herself. Aren't you, my infant?”

“Am I, Rogaire? But I do always what you tell me,” shemurmured meekly.

“Sometimes!” he exclaimed. “At others you are such a pestthat I don't know what to do with you.” But he gazed at herso affectionately that Eve, who was pouring out the tea,could not help thinking the same thoughts that Mrs. Wilmottwas thinking about her, and wondering by what spell it was

that she managed to keep a man like Commander Merlin—obviously pretty hardbitten where women were concerned,and almost certainly no fool when it came to assessing theirvalues and understanding their motives — willing to put upwith her childish importunities and her sometimes not-so-childish and very obvious attempts to claim him as herproperty! She obviously thought she had a right to goeverywhere that he went, and she was by no means willingthat he should pay very much attention to any other female,and had sensed that last night, at the dance, when herpetulance had looked out of her eyes, and a certain grown-up vexation because he had for a short while escaped hermade her look like an angry but pretty cheetah at a zoo. Herscarlet-tipped fingers could well resemble claws, if she feltlike it, Eve was sure, and inflict noticeable scratches, too,despite the sunny way she smiled at

Commander Merlin.

Whilst they had been dancing, and when Annette haddrifted past in the arms of an obvious admirer and hadwaved at him, he had told Eve that Annette was thedaughter of some very old friends of his, but he had notelaborated the matter further. She had been left to wonderwhy, even allowing for the fact that the parents, obviously,had earned his esteem, the daughter should command himas she did, when he was not the type of man it was easy toimagine being commanded by anyone.

As she handed round sandwiches and feathery light cakesbaked by Chris, Eve decided that this was no time to delveinto the matter, but she could see very plainly that Mrs.Wilmott was not in agreement with her. Mrs. Wilmott’sopinion of Annette was given away by her glance everytime it rested upon her, and Annette must have sensed thather stocks were low in that quarter because she graduallybecame more impish, and flirted outrageously with theowner of the Stark Point, who seemed to deriveamusement from her languishing looks and blatant smilesand non-stop provocative conversation. And whenLaurence Pope returned from his long walk and cast asideall his diffidence and unsociableness after one sparkling,friendly glance from her eyes, Mrs. Wilmott’s opinion of him,too, dropped several degrees lower, for she could see thatAnn’s chances of arousing his interest receded farther andfarther into the background with every moment that Annettelingered there on the terrace.

And Annette lingered for as long as Roger Merlin wouldpermit her, which was for about half an hour after they hadall finished tea. Then he rose and slipped a hand inside herarm and propelled her towards the head of the terracesteps.

“Thank you,” he said, looking at Eve, “for a most pleasantday!”

Eve did not see his eyes, for she was bending over the

trolley and stacking cups and saucers and plates togetherneatly, but she thought that his voice contained a faint noteof something which sounded very like mockery.

She did not answer, but Mrs. Wilmott condescended toaccompany him to the foot of the terrace steps, andAnnette called out:

“Au revoir, everybody!” She gave an extra wave of her handto Laurence Pope, who looked as if he would have liked toaccompany her back to the Stark Point Hotel. “Au revoir,Laurence!” He was left with an impression of melting eyesand a

smile which was to keep him wakeful for several nights.

Martin Pope stood up and came behind Eve, and hestarted to help her push the trolley.

“You ought not to have to shove this heavy load about,” hesaid, his eyes on her slender shoulders. “Can’t we getsome more help?”

“I will as soon as I think I can afford it,” Eve answered,looking up at him with one of her pleasantest smiles.

“Then we’ll afford it straight away,” he replied to that, “andyou can put it down on my bill! No!” as she opened hermouth to protest. “I mean it! And I mean that I'm going toLondon at the beginning of next week to see what I can do

in the way of interesting various friends of mine in thisplace. I mean to fill it for you, if I can!”

“That is nice of you,” Eve told him, feeling a warm sensationof gratitude rise up inside her because he was, she feltabsolutely certain, completely dependable. No disturbingand changeable moods about him, or inexplicable looks orshades of irony or mockery in that voice of his with theslight but attractive North-country accent. No feelings ofhostility, or anything about him to make her pulse leap in anextraordinary and quite uncalled-for fashion because hishand accidentally touched hers, or— supposing, forinstance, a bat flew out at them and he caught her in hisarms!

Nothing but a comforting sensation of having a pair ofsufficiently broad shoulders beside her that would take theburdens off her own shoulders if he could and if she wouldallow him. And the knowledge that he really was anxious totake the burdens off her shoulders. His kind grey eyes toldher that.

She sighed suddenly, before she could stop herself, and hesaid quickly:

“You’re tired! You’ve had a busy day. Why not let me takeyou out to dinner this evening, and you can forget what’sgoing on up here? We can go down to The Smuggler—Tom Geake always puts on a good meal in the evenings.

Will you?” with a note of insistence.

Eve hesitated. If Commander Merlin saw her having dinneralone with Martin Pope at The Smuggler, he would feeljustified in laughing in a hollow fashion deep down insidehim. Those blue, seaman’s eyes of his would survey herwith amusement— not particularly kindly amusement,either!—and one of his dark, satanic eyebrows would lift,very definitely in a quizzical way. He would say to himself:“Ho, ho! So I was right, after all! I wonder how long Treloanwill survive now as a guest-house?”

Eve caught her lower lip between her teeth and bit it ratherhard. It would be nice to have dinner at The Smuggler andto spend the evening with Martin Pope, and if Roger sawher, or heard about it afterwards (as he probably wouldfrom Tom Geake!), that would be satisfactory, too, becauseit might convince him that he really had planted an idea inher head, and that it was he who had pointed out a way forher!

“Well?” Pope asked anxiously. “Will you?”

“I will!” Eve answered, and smiled at him brilliantly.

C H A P TE R F O URTE E N

APRIL blossomed into May and May into June. Apart froma few squally days in May, when the fruit blossoms was atits best, and the sudden boisterous wind sent it flying like a

shower of crumpled butterflies’ wings, scattering in alldirections, the weather remained perfect, Treloan drowsedbeneath hot blue skies, its gardens full of the scent ofroses, and the endless song of the sea rose upwards fromthe foot of the cliffs. The sea had an incredible bluenessabout it—a Mediterranean blueness. And the tiny, shelteredcove that was washed clean and sweet at high tide was amost popular place on a hot day, when guests desirednothing better than to lie about languidly between bathesand improve their coating of tan.

Mrs. Neville Wilmott was the only one who never allowedthe sun’s rays to touch either her face or her shoulders, buteven her limbs were golden and smooth as apomegranate, and she wore the most striking beach wearwhich called attention to them. Her daughter, Ann, waslooking decidedly healthier and much less fragile, and whena young man arrived at Treloan after booking a roomthrough the medium of an advertisement, and apparentlydecided she had something which appealed to him, shebecame infinitely happier. Not that she had altogether givenup the idea of Laurence Pope taking notice of her one day;but the newcomer was older and therefore moresophisticated, and he wrote plays which were apparentlysuccessful—judging by the pigskin suitcases and his silkshirts and his general air of affluence. And although hismanner of taking notice of her was not all that she mighthave desired, for he had decided that in some curious wayshe gave him inspiration and he liked to have her near him

when he was lying at full-length on the sand and thinking outdetails of elusive plots, it was better than Laurence’s cooldisregard of her.

Laurence should have returned to Oxford, but he hadsucceeded in fracturing a bone in his ankle, and borrowedhis father’s car to make daily trips to the Stark Point Hotel,where Annette Le Frere was always waiting to bedazzlehim. The Stark Point was getting very busy, and the ownerof it had little time these days to bestow on “a graceful slipof a French girl, who nevertheless had to be entertained—which was where Laurence came in. And Laurence wasonly too happy to “come in at all,” even though he knew thatin the evenings Annette sat at Roger Merlin's table in thebig and brilliant dining-room, and Roger had somethingabout him which he could scarcely hope to compete with.

At Treloan Manor, too, the rooms were becoming filled, andEve found herself with little time on her hands. One or two ofMartin Pope's friends had listened to his advice and weregiving the Manor a trial, and in addition Aunt Kate's systemof advertising was yielding results.

One particularly worthwhile visitor was an elderly widow,very stout and amiable, who called herself Mrs. JosephBrownrigg, and arrived with an angular and elderly maidknown simply as Prout. They planned to stay the summer,and possibly throughout the winter also, if it suited them,and occupied a suite on the first floor, next door to the large

best bedroom which Mrs. Neville Wilmott still occupied.Mrs. Neville Wilmott was only too certain that she couldnever have anything in common with the Mrs. JosephBrownriggs of this world—regrettably Mrs. Brownriggoccasionally dropped her aitches, and was addicted toslightly vulgar jokes which caused Mrs. Wilmott to lookdown her carefully powdered nose, although Dr. Craig hadthe bad taste to enjoy them—and she was greatly annoyedwith Eve for placing them in such close proximity to herself.

However, Eve was getting a little tired of Mrs. Wilmott,despite the fact that her having a daughter who alsooccupied a room meant a larger weekly bill, and at least itwas always settled promptly. But Mrs. Wilmott, as well asLaurence Pope, had taken to visiting the Stark Point fairlyoften, and she was sometimes a little critical when shereturned to Treloan.

At the Stark Point, as she pointed out to Eve, they hadwaiters to attend upon them at table, and waiters werealways much more efficient than waitresses. For one thingthere was less risk of the soup being dropped down theneck of her favorite evening-gown than when Betty Forster,from the village of Treloan, handed it round each evening.And Betty was clumsy in other ways, too, and liked to bechatty sometimes, which was a thing a well trained waiternever attempted to be, unless he was certain his chattinesswas welcome. And then at the Stark Point, of course, therewere so many other visitors that it was impossible to be

dull, whereas the emptiness of the dining room at TreloanManor was sometimes a little inclined to weigh upon one'sspirits. Or, at any rate, it weighed upon Mrs. Wilmott’s.

Eve was tempted to retaliate by reminding her that thecharges at the Stark Point were at least double the amountcharged by herself, and that in any case there was noreason why Mrs. Wilmott should remain on at Treloan if shedid not wish to do so. But secretly she was certain thatMartin Pope was the real reason why Mrs. Wilmott stayedon at Treloan, and not only because he probably persuadedher to do so, but because he was, after all, Martin Pope,and having been his guest on his yacht she knew full wellthe advantages of remaining in close contact with him.When the yacht was declared thoroughly seaworthy againshe might become his guest once more, and it would be apity to do anything to upset the pleasantness of therelationship between them.

On the whole, the harmony between the guests at Treloanwas sufficient to cause both Eve and Aunt Kate to feel fairlywell satisfied, however, and they grew more and moresatisfied as their rooms filled up. Sometimes the visitorswere only week enders—people passing through in a car—and on more than one occasion a car was halted outsidethe gates by the attractiveness of the new sign whichproclaimed the Manor an hotel, and open for lunches andteas to non-residents as well as residents. So far they hadnot felt capable of rising to dinners for stray callers, as

dinner as a meal was always a little more imposing, andtheir service as yet was not without its defects, as Mrs.Neville Wilmott would have been only too ready to amplify,but they hoped that in time all things would becomepossible.

In the meantime, in order to leave vacant as much space aspossible, Aunt Kate and Eve decided to hurry their move tothe

cottage which Eve had visited with Commander Merlin.Chris Carpenter was to go on living in the hotel proper, notonly because it would be more convenient for her, butbecause some responsible person had to be on thepremises to deal with any emergencies. And Chris wasentirely capable of dealing with emergencies, as well asbecoming more and more rapidly indispensible as a cook.

Even Mrs. Wilmott praised her cooking. Martin Pope andDr. Craig, and the new young gentleman who earned hisliving as a playwright, frankly revelled in it. Mrs. JosephBrownrigg said that it was so good that it was destroyingevery chance of her obeying the instructions she hadreceived from her doctor and sticking to a strict diet.

So Chris was to go on living in her comfortable little bed-sitting-room over the kitchen quarters, and Eve and AuntKate were to make the move to the cottage with as littledelay as possible. Eve had had the cottage scoured from

attic to ground floor, and a few essential repairs had beencarried out by a friend of Tom Geake, who had someconnection with local members of the building trade. AuntKate selected the furniture, with an eye to a few of thesmaller and choicer pieces being brought into closercontact with her and Eve’s daily life. For instance, the littleBuhl cabinet from the drawing-room was placed in a cornerof the small sitting-room where she and Eve would enjoytheir afternoon tea together when they were not otherwiseoccupied, and the little rosewood writing-table which hadstood in her own bedroom window found its way to thesitting-room also. Carpets and curtains were chosen withcare, the former with the object of increasing the size of therooms, the latter with the object of brightening thesomewhat sombrely panelled walls. Eve went in for a lot ofgay chintz in her bedroom, and Aunt Kate favored dimity.They had a grandfather clock in the square hall, and thechairs in the dining-room were Jacobean and exactly suitedthe leaded casement windows. Crimson brocade curtainsadded richness to the dining-room, and a gleaming copperwarming-pan was added as a last touch to the linenfoldpanelling in the hall.

When all was ready, Eve felt quite proud of the place, andso did Aunt Kate. It only needed something being done tothe wilderness which was the garden to banish any regretsthey might secretly entertain at the idea of living anywhereother than in the manor-house, and Eve made up her mindthat she would put in as much spare time as she could

manage working on it. Chris promised, too, in her freemoments, to expend any excess energy she had in rootingup weeds out of flower-beds and pushing a mowing-machine over the ill-kept lawn.

Even Martin Pope, who viewed their removal from the bighouse with a certain amount of dismay, offered to put inhours as a gardener if they would allow him. But Eve couldnot quite see him, in his elegantly tailored flannels and hisimmaculate, dark blue, double-breasted blazers, bendingto the common task in such a neglected area of coarsegrass and sea-thrift and windblown tamarisk bushes.

The day they moved in they gave a kind of informal cocktailparty in the little lounge. At least, they invited Mr. Pope andhis son and Dr. Craig and Mrs. Wilmott and Ann to havedrinks with them, to toast the beginning of their occupationof the new house.

Mrs. Wilmott betrayed by her expression that she did notthink much of the house as a house, but even sherecognized that it had been furnished with taste, and that ithad a sort of cosiness which might appeal to some people.Certainly not to her. Dr. Craig examined the various roomswith a faint gleam like wistfulness in his eyes, andannounced afterwards to Miss Barton that it was just such ahouse as he would have chosen to live in himself, and thathe envied her and her niece the ownership of such a place.Not missing the wistfulness, Aunt Kate invited him to look in

and see them whenever he felt like it, particularly when hefelt like escaping from the other people in the hotel, and heaccepted the invitation with alacrity.

“Thank you,” he said. “I'll be your most frequent visitor!”

And he was. But even so Aunt Kate did not seem to mind,or find him greatly in the way when he formed the habit ofdropping in evening after evening after dinner, andoccupying their most comfortable chair while they plied himwith coffee and cigarettes and occasional glasses ofsherry. He challenged Aunt Kate to games of chess andtaught her a new game of patience, while outside Evelabored amongst the weeds and the sunset’s afterglow,and inhaled the salt smell of the sea and listened to thestrong surge of it hurling itself restlessly against the granitecliffs.

On some evenings, when the weather was fine and a youngmoon hung like a pale brooch in the sky, Martin Popewalked down from Treloan, and they talked softly togetherin the dusk, and then went for their customary ramble alongthe edge of the cliffs. One evening when it was almost duskand the owls were hooting in the little wood behind thehouse, Eve saw the lights of a powerful car go past on theribbon of broad main road which skirted the wood, and itseemed to her that they suddenly came to a standstill,although it was too far away for her to hear any noise of anengine or any noise at all save the somewhat mocking

calling of the owls.

She was stowing the garden shears away in the tool- shedwhen the garden gate clicked open and a tall form came upthe path. A voice, in the opening of the tool-shed, causedher to start.

“Any bats to be disposed of tonight ?” inquired the voice.“This is the hour when they love to make themselves anuisance.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Eve, looking up at him. “How you— youstartled me!”

“Did I?”

He was gazing down at her in the gloom, and one side ofhis mouth smiled in that rather strange fashion of his. Shethought that his eyes seemed to be studying her veryintently, or seeking to study her in that uncertain light.

“And I meant merely to be helpful! However”—his teethgleamed in contrast with his dark face—“I’m sorry if I didstartle you. I was passing on the road, and I was not certainwhether you had moved in here yet, so I thought I’d comeand see. You’ve been busy. I can smell new-cut grass.”

“It’s all a bit of a mess still, I’m afraid,” she answered. Forsome extraordinary reason she felt confused, disturbed —as if she had been thrown off balance and was by no

means sure of herself. “You saw what a state it was in thatday we came here. I don’t think I’ve seen you since.” “No,”He agreed coolly, “you haven’t!” She suddenly recollectedher manners, and decided that there was only one thing todo and that was to ask him inside.

“Won’t you come in?” she said. “And see Aunt Kate. Sheand I are living here together now.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

AUNT KATE was sitting in attractively diffused electriclamplight in the sitting-room, and she had a pile of homely-looking mending on her knee. For once Dr. Craig was notspending the evening at the cottage, and Miss Barton wasinstalled in the chair he usually occupied, her feet on a foot-rest, and a pile of magazines at her elbow for the momentwhen she decided that she had had enough of utilitariandarning. The whole atmosphere of the sitting- room wasbright and attractive, with Sarah sleeping with one eyeopen in a basket in front of the flower-filled fireplace, andthe Buhl cabinet in a comer gleaming with a few choiceexamples of chinaware. The little rosewood writing-deskbeneath the window looked as if it had been recently used,and every article of furniture shone.

The general effect was most pleasing, peaceful, andinviting, especially to one coming in out or the dusk of theevening.

“Good evening, Commander Merlin!” Aunt Kate exclaimed,as if she was not greatly surprised to see him. “It’s quite along time since you came to lunch with us.”

But he was gazing about with obvious approval at what hesaw. There was even some astonishment plainly written onhis face.

“Why, you've worked wonders!” he told them. “I alwaysrealized that this place had possibilities, but you’vecertainly made the most of them. I congratulate you both.”

“Thank you,” Aunt Kate replied complacently. “Eve and I arecertainly quite well satisfied with what we’ve managed toachieve. Do sit down, Commander Merlin,” she added.“You happen to find us alone tonight, without any of ourguests in close attendance. Usually this cottage is like amagnet, attracting either Mr. Pope or Dr. Craig, or both. Buttonight I’ve been able to pay some attention to mywardrobe”—holding up a serviceable lisle stocking whichhad already received some treatment in the shape of amiraculously neat darn— ”and I must ask you to forgive meif I carry on with the good work.”

“Why, of course,” he answered, sinking into a chair andlooking as if he was grateful for the comfort of the deepupholstery. He stretched his long legs out in front of him,and a short sigh escaped him. “This is an oasis of quietafter living in a maelstrom of perpetual motion,” he said.

“Perpetual comings and goings, and minor and majorcrises, and every sort of unwanted distraction, and never amoment to call one’s soul one's own. That, at least, is myown impression of what running an hotel at the beginning ofthe holiday season means. But you seem to be morefortunate than I am. You can escape.”

Aunt Kate looked at him rather shrewdly. He certainlyappeared a little tired, and his blue eyes looked a littledarker and deeper than usual, and there were faint lines ofweariness at the comers of his mouth.

“Yes; we can escape,” she echoed him, and instructed herniece to go and make some fresh coffee for theCommander. “Unless you'd prefer something stronger?”she suggested. “With so many visitors we always keepsome alcoholic refreshment on hand, and we can offer yousherry —or even a whisky and soda?”

“No, thank you,” he answered, and looked up at Eve as shewas about to disappear into the kitchen. “But I won't haveyou bothering about making coffee for me, Miss Petherick. Ilooked in out of curiosity, because I wasn’t sure whetheryou were living here yet, and I refuse to make myself anuisance. It's sufficiently delightful to be permitted to relaxhere for a short while, since you don't object to my doingso.” And he smiled in the way that did odd things to theusually calm breathing arrangements of Miss Barton'sniece. Indeed, when she saw the softened way that that

smile played round his mouth, and the strangely direct andeven faintly penetrating regard he bent upon her as shehovered behind her aunt's chair, Eve was conscious ofsomething fluttering excitedly in the spot where a pulse beatin her throat. And to hide the fact that she could not quitemeet his eyes, she turned away hurriedly.

“Of course I'll make coffee,” she said. “It won't take me aminute.” When she returned with the tray in her hands, heraunt and Roger Merlin were indulging in a friendly argumentas to the best method of encouraging visitors to hotels, andthe important “don'ts” that prevented their staying for anylength of time, and he looked up with a sudden laugh in hiseyes as Eve handed him his coffee.

“Miss Barton, I can see, is becoming really keen on her newjob,” he observed, “and unless I'm really careful I shall haveto think about shutting up the Stark Point when TreloanManor becomes the most popular holiday haunt along thiscoast. Some of your aunt's ideas, Miss Petherick, are quiterevolutionary, and as I believe she has the strength of mindto carry them out, it looks as if I shall soon be folding mytents and retreating to the fastnesses of the one or two littleplaces I own on the Continent.”

“And the fact that you own places on the Continent meansthat you're already amassed sufficient money to buy Eveand me out probably half a dozen times over!” Aunt Kateoffered with her unfailing shrewdness. “For one thing, I

happen to know that they're not 'little', and for another, itwould take more than our poor little

effort to cause you even a moment's uneasiness!”

“Would it?” But his smile gave away nothing as he bentforward and offered his cigarette-case. “All the same, onecan never afford to ignore a rival, and I have alwaysregarded Treloan as being ideally situated for an hotel ofthe type that, shall we say, attracts the nicer kind ofholidaymaker. Which means, of course, the wealthy kind—the kind who do not object to paying for the dignity of agracious old house and all its amenities, to say nothing of asuperb situation. A situation, I don’t mind admitting, that issuperior even to that of the Stark Point.”

“Well, that’s something, I suppose,” Aunt Kate observed.

“It is,” he agreed. “And it’s even more when you happen topossess a charming small cottage like this one, where youcan make your own home away from all the involvedrunning of the hotel itself. If I had a small place like thiswithin reasonable distance of the Stark Point, I wouldn’t beoccupying a flat on the top floor, which was at one timerelegated to the use of servants. Or, at least, it was in myfather’s and mother’s day.”

“It doesn’t sound entirely ideal,” Miss Barton admitted, whileEve sat quietly sipping her coffee and listening to their

conversation—and thinking that after tonight the tapestrychair in which the Commander lounged, so much at hisease, would have a particular kind of interest for her. “And Iwonder what your father and mother would think if theycould see the magnificent thing into which you have turnedtheir old home? They weren’t, I suppose, alive when youfirst had the idea?”

“No,” he answered quietly, “they were both dead.”

“Otherwise you might have—hesitated?”

“I don't know. I don’t think so.” He crushed out the stub of hiscigarette in the ash-tray, and then stared hard at the plaingrey carpet which had come from Uncle Hilary's study atTreloan. “It was better than seeing the place go—perhapsturned into some sort of an institution. And at least it is stillmine.”

“Yes; it is still yours!”

Aunt Kate felt a kind of softening round her heart as shelooked at him, for there must have been a time when heexperienced many pangs over what he was doing to his oldhome. For a home is a home, and it is not easy to share itwith a large number of other people, even if they do pay youhandsomely for the privilege. And she had a kind of“hunch”, as an American would have said, that Roger Merlinhad been more than ordinarily devoted to the place where

he had probably first seen the light of day, and where hisboyhood had been spent, and where so many pleasant andstrictly private memories were stored away, like fadedbrocades in a dower chest. Memories of uncaring youth,before the dark days of war, in which he had served somagnificently and which had altered the fortunes of hisparents. Memories of a well-tended paradise beside thesea, where he had wandered freely, hunting for birds’ eggsalong the shore, fishing, sailing, learning to swim like aneel. Memories of days that had nothing to do with hispresent responsibilities. Days that he was so loath to forgetabout entirely that to preserve something of them he hadturned the place into an hotel.

But an hotel was not a home!

Looking at him as he automatically lighted anothercigarette Eve could see that he was frowning a little, hisdark brows so closely together that the scar showed upalmost painfully, while the jut of his chin seemed suddenlymuch more noticeable.

He was trying to persuade himself, she thought, that he haddone the right thing, and that even if it was possible for hismother and father to behold the result of all that he hadattempted, they would not be shocked, or displeased, andwould perhaps feel a little bit proud of him. But he was alsoregretting the loss of a home, and that was something self-persuasion could not alter. It was something that would

affect him more acutely as time went on, unless, of course,he married and started a fresh home of his own, away fromthe atmosphere of his work and away from constantreminders of less exacting and more leisurely days.

But for the present he was a bachelor—whether by choiceor not it was impossible to tell—and his home was the topfloor of Stark Place, which was now the Stark Point Hotel.And although it was much more luxuriously furnished than inthe old days, when it had been used to accommodate staff—probably more luxuriously furnished, according to modernstandards, than any part of the old place as it was in hisparents' days—yet it lacked something. It was never meantto be lived in as a home, as this cottage was meant to belived in. And both Eve and Aunt Kate realized that theirvisitor was making mental comparisons, and that in a wayhe was envying them. He who had been ready and willing tobuy up Treloan, and every stick of beautiful period furnitureit possessed, without making serious inroads into his bankbalance, envied them their right to do as they pleased inthis small, simply furnished house discreetly tucked awaybehind the more ostentatious skirts of Treloan!

Aunt Kate thought it was slightly pathetic.

“Any time you’re not too busy to look us up here, we shallbe delighted to see you,” she told him, speaking withsudden sincerity. And it was true that she no longer thoughtof him as the arrogant, demanding male who had

ruthlessly sought to deprive them of Treloan, but assomeone who could be quite pleasant on occasion. Andwith half an eye on her niece, who was rather like still water,and gave away little on the surface, she wondered whether,perhaps, Eve. . . . Eve was inclined to agree with her. . . .

“That’s very kind of you,” he said, and stood up. “Very kind!”

He smiled down first at Miss Barton, and held out his hand,which she took without rising from her chair— largelybecause it would have meant upsetting the pile of mending.

“I’m afraid we started off rather badly,” he recalled, with afaintly whimsical, faintly reminiscent smile. “But I’ve afeeling that you’ve forgiven me for wanting to take Treloanfrom you.”

“Oh, I certainly have,” Aunt Kate admitted at once, frankly.“And I don’t altogether blame you for wanting Treloan!”

“And you, Miss Petherick?” looking at her with his headheld slightly on one side and a quizzical gleam in his eyes.

“Oh, I — I think it was quite understandable that you shouldwant Treloan,” she answered, a little taken aback.

“But much more understandable that you should want tokeep it!” He gave her his odd, inscrutable look as theymoved towards the door.

Outside, on the path, they stood looking up at the moon, inits first quarter, which seemed to be caught up in thegnarled and neglected branches of an ancient apple tree.Behind it the sky was as soft and blue as turquoise velvet,and it had a strange, luminous quality about it, whichseemed to cast its mantle about them. Eve almost gaspedbecause the loveliness was a loveliness which had thepower to hurt. It made one hungry for more.

Inever watch the scattered fire of stars, or sun s far-trailingtrain,

But all my heart is one desire—

But all in vain!

Only we happen to be looking at the moon!” he added, witha onesided twist to his lips.

Eve stood clutching the rickety garden gate, and her heartseemed to be pounding heavily inside her. It wasunpleasant, because it seemed to be thundering in her earsas well, and she hoped he could not hear it. She hopedalso that the knowledge that the faint, elusive scent of hispipe tobacco, which clung to him, and the mixture ofshaving cream and hair lotion which he used, and whichalso floated in the atmosphere around them, had adisturbing effect on her was not communicated to him as aresult of their standing so close together.

He bent his sleek, dark head and looked down at her, andhe thought that her pale skin looked unnaturally fair andpure in that transforming light.

“Remember,” he said, “if Treloan gets too much for you, I’llalways take it off your hands!”

“Thank you,” she answered, not daring to look at him. “But Idon’t think I shall ever want to part with Treloan.” “Well,perhaps not,” he agreed. “But you never know.” The song ofthe sea came up to them

— the slow, seductive surge of it. “I think I do know,” shetold him more firmly. “I could never bear to leave this part ofthe world now.”

“Couldn’t you?” looking down at her again. His voicebecame almost gentle. “Well, that’s the way I feel about it.Although I have to go away from it sometimes — but Ialways come back!” Irrelevantly she wondered what he wasdoing up here tonight, and why he had been driving his caron that lonely stretch of white cliff road which led to nowherein particular. And without Annette! Where was Annette, shewondered.

“I’m going abroad in a few weeks’ time,” he told her. “I haveinterests in France and Switzerland. But I shall be back.”

With or without Annette, she wondered ? And would he be

taking Annette with him? But naturally she could not ask.

“Good night,” he said, taking her hand and retaining it forlonger than was strictly necessary while he inspected itswell-formed shape in the moonlight. “You'd better not standout here too long. There's a fresh breeze blowing in fromthe sea, and you might catch cold — or a bat might getcaught up in your hair! ” as one swooped above them.

She said nothing. She remembered the time when the bathad swooped down upon her in the hall of the cottage, andhow he had put his arms about her for a few —or so shethough now! — all too brief seconds. And she wonderedwhether he remembered it, too, for his deep blue sailor'seyes were smiling at her rather strangely as he gave herfingers a little squeeze.

“Good night,” he said again. “Good night, Eve!” Then hewent walking briskly away from her out to his car, and shestood and watched his powerful car lights disappearing inthe direction of Treloan village.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

YET the next time they met that moment on intimacy at thegarden gate might never have existed, for once more hismanner had undergone a change, and the circumstances oftheir meeting might possibly have had something to do withit.

Eve had been shopping in Truro, with Martin Pope as herescort, and they got back to Treloan in time to have lunch atThe Smuggler, where Tom Geake received them with theeffusion he reserved for Miss Petherick and her friendsthese days. Tom had a kind of inner parlor where he servedmeals to his more favored customers, away from the pressof the inevitable hikers and the few odd holidaymakers whospent a night or so in his inn, and he led the way to it with abeaming smile on his face, announcing that they were justin time for the roast duck and apple sauce which his wifecooked better than anyone else for miles around. And whilehe stood holding the door open for them and thinking thatthis Mr. Martin Pope was paying a good deal of attention tothe little lady who had inherited Treloan, Eve glancedquickly round it and almost recoiled a step at the sight ofRoger Merlin, already enjoying the roast duck, at a table ina corner which was also graced by the slight, attractivepresence of Annette Le Frere.

Annette had her elbows on the table, and was laughing,showing her slightly pointed white teeth. She woreburgundy-red lipstick and nail varnish, and her sweater wasburgundy also, fitting her like a second skin, and a flauntingprimrose scarf was knotted carelessly about her throat.

“Well, well!” Roger exclaimed, as Tom drew forward chairsfor Eve and Martin Pope at the table next to them. “Sowe’re to have company.”

Annette jangled her ear-rings and called across to themgaily:

“So it is that you two escape as well! Rogaire and I we justwalk out and leave everything. Everything! Bah!” Shespread her hands. “Work it is boring!”

“Work?” Roger echoed her, with elevated eyebrows. “A fatlot of work you do, my infant! You simply make work! ”

But as usual he sounded as if the last thing he everintended to do was to chide her seriously, and knowing thatfor some reason whatever she did was likely to meet with, ifnot his approval, at least his affectionate tolerance, shecaught his arm and gave it a little hug, while he lookedacross at Eve with the old, completely mocking look

in his eyes.

“Not so busy that you can't steal away sometimes?” hesuggested. “Well, it's a good thing not to let business get ontop of you, and you're lucky to have Mr. Pope to see to itthat all work and no play doesn't make Jill a dull girl !” Theeyes were full of a meaning look which Eve could onlyinterpret as unpleasant and intended to cause herembarrassment, so without making any response she tookher seat at the table and deposited her parcels neatly on avacant chair near her.

She was looking particularly attractive this morning, in a

crisp linen suit of a shade of pink which did not fight withher hair, and there was no doubt about it, Martin Pope hadall the appearance of a man who was exceedingly proud tobe seen with her. He picked up the wine-list on their table,and called Tom Geake back into the room to order a bottleof light wine to be served with the main course, and drymartinis to encourage their appetites. Then he sat backand beamed pleasantly at everyone in the room — sparinga few moments of extra admiration for Annette, whocertainly earned the caption “glamour girl”, and looked as ifshe ought to be on the cover of a magazine, with acigarette in a long amber holder dangling negligently fromher lips.

“This is quite a delightful little place,” he pronounced. “And Iparticularly like this room. It's cosy and tucked away.”

It certainly was. There were hunting prints on the walls, andplush-covered chairs, and stout beams crossing the ceiling.There was a ship in a bottle on the mantelpiece, and an oldblunderbuss over the mantelpiece, and a year- before-last’scalendar hanging on the wall. But everything was free fromdust, and despite a slight smell of mothballs, it wasa placein which to relax and temporarily forget one’s cares whileenjoying an excellent repast. For the standard of food atThe Smuggler never dropped below the high level TomGeake and his wife had set for it.

“Possibly you frequent it almost as much as I do — when

I’ve someone like Annette to bear me company!”Commander Merlin remarked, lighting a fresh cigarettefrom the end of his old one and tossing the old stub into thefireplace.

Martin Pope looked at him rather curiously for a moment.

“Well, perhaps I do,” he agreed. He looked across at Eve.“When Miss Petherick can be persuaded that Treloan isn’tlikely to run away during her absence, or some direcatastrophe overtake the inmates!”

She smiled as he picked up his martini and toasted her insilence.

“Let’s hope nothing goes wrong with the party tonight,anyway.”

“Party?” Annette pricked up her ears and looked keenlyinterested. “Are you having a party? What fun!”

“Well, only a little dinner-party,” Eve explained, experiencinga slight difficulty over making conversation. Ever since shehad entered the room and seen Roger Merlin there withAnnette her spirits had received something in the nature ofa cold douche, for although she was fully aware that Annetteattached herself to him on every possible occasion, shenever found it a particularly attractive sight to watch themtogether. And somehow, since the other evening when hehad called at the cottage, without Annette, not even

seeming to miss her greatly. . .

But she realized that she was being absurd. CommanderMerlin had a habit of flirting light-heartedly with most womenwho were reasonably attractive, and with whom he came incontact, possibly for the purpose of whiling away a dull half-hour. Of that she felt suddenly certain. In his walk of life,where it was his job to be charming to women, he no doubtexerted himself a good deal — unless, of course, they hadred hair and he took a dislike to them on sight, as he haddone with her! But he hadovercome his dislike! They werereasonably friendly now. And the other evening....

She took a gulp at her drink, feeling that he was watchingher, and there was no noticeable friendliness in his eyes,she was sure, for some reason. What a perplexing,confusing person he was. He did not flirt with Annette —Annette seemed, somehow, almost to belong to him, andpossibly would belong to him before long. No doubt heintended to marry her. But such women as Mrs. NevilleWilmott knew how to persuade him to be consistentlycharming. He was always courteous and attentive to them.They brought out the best in him. But she, apparently,brought out the worst!

“A dinner-party?” Annette echoed, even more eagerly. “Forsome special purpose?”

“Yes; it’s Dr. Craig’s birthday, and we want to celebrate the

occasion. We’re even giving him a birthday-cake,” Evesmiled a little wanly.

“But how delightful!” Annette showed her little teeth againas she laughed. “And candles? Of course he is havingcandles! How many will he require? Fifty, sixty, seventy? Heis not young, that one — he will require a great manycandles.”

“That’s quite an idea,” Martin Pope said, as if the ideaappealed to him, and smiled with a strong surge of humor.“We mustn't forget the candles, Eve” — he did occasionallydrop the “Miss Petherick” — “and if it’s not too late Isuggest that we collect some before we return to theManor.

It might mean slipping back into Truro, but we can do itbefore tea, and the place will survive without you a littlelonger. Now that Miss Le Frere has reminded me of them,we simply can’t do poor old Craig out of his candles.”

“No, no, of course not!” Annette cried, clapping her handstogether childishly. “And,” she added naively, “I would like tobe there to see them!

“But of course you must be there! Eve turned to her, and fora moment she quite liked her. “You must come to dinner, ifyou will? And Commander Merlin?” she added, meeting hiseyes fully and directly for the first time and reading in them

a look which puzzled her, for it was not so much mocking asspeculative. “Would you find it very dull to be a guest at Dr.Craig’s birthday dinner, Commander Merlin? If, of course,you can spare the time!” “Any opportunity to have dinner atTreloan is an opportunity I wouldn’t miss.” he replied, with aquite surprising touch of gravity. “And as for this impudentmiss here, she has already invited herself.”

“Which is better than not being invited at all,” Annettedeclared with gamin pertness.

Martin Pope agreed with her. He thought her attractive buta minx, and decided that the job of taking her on as a wifewould prove no sinecure. But possibly this fellow Merlinknew what he was about.

“Then that’s settled,” Eve said, as if the addition of twohitherto unconsidered guests to the party quite met with herapproval. “And all that remains is to get the candles. But Idon’t imagine the cake Chris has baked for Dr. Craig willhold very many; and as he might not like to think we’vebeen trying to guess at his age it might be wiser, andkinder, to add a token candle.”

“Oh no,” Martin Pope disagreed with her. “I don’t have toguess: I know!” He chuckled suddenly. “I wouldn’t miss anopportunity to get back on him for one or two of the thingshe’s done to me in the past

— such as putting me on a strict diet at one period, and notletting me off until I was practically reduced to a shadow!And insisting on this prolonged holiday for another. Not,” headded, glancing quickly at Eve, “that I have any regretswhere that’s concerned. It’s the best holiday I’ve had foryears.” Eve felt herself growing slightly pink, for there wasno misreading the look in his eyes, and she knew thatCommander Merlin could translate that look as well.

“Well, I’m glad that you can say that,” she murmuredhurriedly.

“And I’m certainly indebted to Dr. Craig, because if hehadn’t suggested your taking a holiday, Treloan Manorwould never have had any of you as guests.” “Which, ofcourse, is important from Miss Petherick’s point of view,”Commander Merlin observed smoothly.

“And mine!” Pope declared quite fervently. “In fact, if I wasat all superstitious, I would say that I could quite clearlydiscern the hand of providence in all that has happened tome since I left London. And even though the poor old Rosehas been laid up in Falmouth ever since as a result of thosehappenings, I don’t think I would complain!” “No?” Rogermurmured, smiling with the merest touch of sarcasmclinging to the corners of his mouth. “And, no doubt, whenshe's seaworthy once more, you and the Rose willdisappear again into the blue?”

“I don't know. I don't think so. Unless ... ” He paused; oncemore glanced at Eve, glanced at the wine clinging to thebottom of his glass, and then away from the table at theship in the bottle on the mantelpiece. His face wasthoughtful, but his voice gave away nothing. “It all depends,”he said. “It all depends!” ;

“On what?” Roger could have inquired, although he wasalmost sure he knew the answers. A honeymoon in theyacht would be ideal. But, on the other hand, if he had to goaway and nurse a broken heart, the Rose of Sharon wouldbe ideal for the purpose. Yes; ideal for both purposes!”

Roger thrust back his chair and stood up.

“Well, come along, infant,” he said, almost curtly, to Annette.“We'd better be going. I can’t devote my entire day to doingnothing.”

Annette smiled at Eve in almost the same friendly fashionthat she had smiled at her at the very beginning of theiracquaintance.

“An revoir,Mademoiselle Eve, and Monsieur Pope,” shesaid. ‘Tonight I shall insist that Dr. Craig blows out all thecandles!”

When Eve returned to Treloan, she found that her aunt wasexercised by a problem. Indeed, Miss Barton was greatly

concerned because the present she had bought for Dr.Craig’s birthday did not now strike her as entirely the rightsort of present for an elderly spinster lady to give to anelderly bachelor gentleman, and she wanted her niece’sopinion on it.

“It was those dreadful pyjamas he wears,” she confessed,“that put the idea into my head. You must have seen them!

That night when they all came here after the storm, I couldhardly

take my eyes off them. Simply terrible purple stripes, andhe has another pair that look exactly like a particularly luridsunset. I mean, supposing he was ill — what on earth wouldthey think of him if he had to be taken to hospital wearingthose things?”

‘Tm sure I don’t know,” Eve admitted. “But does it matter?”she added. “After all, they’re probably his own choice.”

“Much more likely to have been the choice of some relativewith a shocking taste — a nephew, or someone, whowanted to borrow some money. Anyway, I hope mine willstrike him as much more suitably subdued.”

“Yours?” Eve inquired, surprised. And then she stared asher aunt unwrapped a parcel, bearing the label of anexclusive gentlemen’s outfitters in Truro, and displayed toview two chaste, cellophane-wrapped subsidiary parcels

containing two separate pairs of men’s heavy silk pyjamasin discreet shades of pale lavender and a kind of biscuity-beige.

“There!” Miss Barton exclaimed. “What do you think ofthose?”

Eve endeavored to keep an absolutely straight face as sheexamined the garments; but try as she would a faint smilewould not be denied. “Why, I think they’re very nice indeed,”she said.

“Do you?” Aunt Kate looked at her. “Truthfully?”

“Yes; truthfully.”

“And you don’t think he’s likely to think it a little bit odd?” Aflush actually overspread her weather-beaten face anddisappeared under her smartly-cropped hair. “I mean, Iknow I’m not even a married woman, and — and he’s not amarried man, but...”

“All the more reason why I think you should give him thepyjamas,” Eve said. “He obviously requires someone tolook after him, and it’s very nice of you to take an interest.Depend upon it, he’ll think so! And you might evenpersuade him to hand over those other monstrosities, andwe could burn them in the boiler fire.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Aunt Kate said doubtfully.

“They’re quite good material. But these men who live alone,without the influence of any woman in their lives, do seem toform the most extraordinary notions as to what suits them.And although Dr. Craig is a medical man I'm quite sure hedoesn’t look after himself properly. Only the other day I hadto insist on his changing his wet shoes when he came inafter a walk, and he suffers very badly from dyspepsia, youknow, but the last thing he bothers to do is to look after hisdiet. I’ve been watching it for him lately, however, and I’minsisting on his cutting out pastry and other starchy foods.”

“Well, I’m sure he ought to be very grateful to you,” Evemurmured, still struggling with a desire to grin openly, forthe extreme seriousness of her aunt’s face was, shethought, very revealing. Miss Barton had lived for nearly fiftyyears without betraying any interest whatsoever in anymember of the opposite sex, preferring the companionshipof a dog like Sarah to even the thought of a husband in hercosy Surrey cottage, but now she was actually concerningherself with the diet of an amiable elderly gentleman whowore lurid pyjamas and ignored the consequences ofgetting wet feet! Eve could not help wondering what,precisely, had happened to her aunt, and whether it was acondition which was likely to grow worse.

Miss Barton suddenly caught sight of the twinkle in herniece’s eyes, and the color in her cheeks deepened toquite a wild blush.

“I can’t imagine what you find even slightly amusing in theidea of my taking pity on the poor man,” she declared, witha touch of tartness. “Anyone would, when he’s sopathetically helpless. And at least he’s grateful to me fordoing his mending, and little jobs like that.”

“Of course he is, darling,” Eve soothed her, passing an armaround the thick waist and giving it a squeeze. “But I wasonly wondering whether the day might dawn when I’ll haveto live alone here at the cottage, or get Chris to come andlive with me, while you and Dr. Craig ------------------------------------------------------------ ”

“My dear child, don’t say such a thing!” Aunt Kate imploredher. “If Dr. Craig heard you, what wouldhe think of me?”

“Pretty much the same as he thinks now, I imagine,” Eveanswered, with an amused smile. “But the important thing iswhat do you think of him? By the time you’ve made yourselfindispensable to him, that’s going to be the importantquestion.”

“I think you’re being absurd,” Aunt Kate said shortly, andshe went to her dressing-table and started to busy herselfopening and shutting drawers, and fussing with some toiletarticles on the kidneyshaped top. Then she suddenlywhirled on her niece. “But while we're on the subject of themen in this house, what about Martin Pope?”

“Well, what about him?” Eve asked, looking completelyinnocent.

“What about him!” Miss Barton scoffed. “As if it isn'tobvious to everyone—and certainly must be to you!—thathe’s head over ears in love with you, and merely waiting foryou to fall in love with him! And are you going to do so? I’vebeen wondering for several weeks now. You’d be foolishnot to have a good try.”

“What do you mean?” Eve demanded, also walking to thedressing-table and picking up a bottle of eau-de-Cologneand

examining it thoughtfully.

Aunt Kate made an expressive movement with hershoulders, and started to brush her hair vigorously.

“It's so simple that you don't need me to cross your t’s foryou, and dot your i's. Marry Martin Pope, who is really quitecharming, and you can turn all those people (includingmyself and Dr. Craig) out of Treloan, and live there yourself,in dignified style, as I'm sure you would like to do—as youruncle Hilary Petherick did! Treloan is such a delightfulhouse that it would make a wonderful background for ahome, and with Martin’s money it could be made evenmore delightful. The gardens, for instance, want moneyspent on them, and so soon will the exterior walls of the

house, which deteriorate quickly in this salt atmosphere.We have no money to do these things. As Martin’s wife youcould have a simply superb time, spending, spending,spending. . . . And it would let that Roger Merlin man seethat he’s not the only pebble on the beach!”

Eve appeared surprised. Her slim eyebrows arched a little.“Commander Merlin has long since ceased to grudge usTreloan,” she pointed out. “I think he even wishes us wellwith our little experiment.”

“Does he?” But Aunt Kate flicked powder, of quite a wrongshade to prove helpful to her florid complexion, with suchvigor over her face that it entirely defeated its object, andgrimaced doubtfully into the mirror. “Well, that’s youropinion. . . .” And then she looked up at her niece. “Butabout Martin Pope . . .?”

Eve smiled at her.

“You can think of me living here alone, an old maid devotedto the running of her hotel, when you and Dr. Craig arecomfortably installed in his house at Twickenham, lookingafter each other's rheumatism,” she answered lightly.

But Aunt Kate shook her head.

“You’ll never be an old maid, my dear! You mustn’t follow inmy footsteps.”

Eve continued to smile and made for the door.

“Well, unless I'm going to be late for the birthday dinner, I’dbetter hurry and get changed,” she said. “And, by the way,there are two other guests expected. Commander Merlinand Miss Le Frere.”

“Oh!” This time it was Aunt Kate who arched her eyebrows.“Does the Wilmott woman know?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“Pity,” Aunt Kate observed. “She might have wornsomething really spectacular. Mr. Pope she esteems for acertain reason, but I suspect that Commander Merlinattracts her even more. However, she has an apparentlyinexhaustible wardrobe, so I imagine we shall seesomething eye-opening.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

IN which prediction Aunt Kate was certainly proved correct.For Mrs. Neville Wilmott appeared in the dining- room atTreloan that evening clothed, as it were, in misty blacksatin, lit to beauty by a magnificent set of emerald braceletsand earrings. She looked statuesque and indescribablygraceful, and even Martin Pope seemed pleased to beallowed to hand her a glass of sherry in the drawing-roombefore dinner. Eve also wore black, but it was cloudy blackunrelieved by any ornament save a row of small pearls and

her own flaming hair, and by contrast with Mrs. Wilmott’sdress it was unpretentious. But even so, when CommanderMerlin was announced, he seemed to find her worthstudying as she made the circle of her guests and assistedMr. Pope to replenish their glasses.

The dinner-table, for the occasion, looked almost superb. Itwas the great central dinner-table, and the flowers on itwere deep red roses. The birthday-cake stood on thesideboard, and it was certainly a monument to the skill ofChris Carpenter. Instead of the usual Happy Birthday, therewas a scene in icing representing a garden, which mighthave been the garden of Treloan, with the sides of the cakethe sheer sides of the cliffs. And “Come Back to Treloan”was cut out of sparkling silver foil and bent to form an archabove the garden. There were no candles, to Annette'sloudly expressed regret, because Eve had decided that Dr.Craig might not appreciate a joke of this sort when the agehe had arrived at, whatever it might be, was a little abovethe age for such frolics, especially in the presence of thelady who attended to his complaining and took almost amaternal interest in his digestive upsets.

After dinner the guests dispersed out of doors, for after aday when the cliff top had been wrapped in the uncannywhite vapor for which the Cornish coast is famous, andwhich sweeps in like swirling balls of cotton-wool from thesea, the mist had cleared unexpectedly, and the gardens ofTreloan were bathed in all the yellow warmth of a June

evening. Mrs. Wilmott took Commander Merlin off to showhim a delightful new view she had discovered from a cornerof the shrubbery, and Annette—deprived of the lean armshe chose so often to hang upon, and also of LaurencePope's attentive admiration, because his father had put hisfoot down and sent him off to make some attempt at leastto devote himself to his studies—attached herself to MartinPope, who would have been less than human if he had notfound a golden girl in a gauzy gown, like the gauzy wings ofa moth, attractive. Ann Wilmott simply disappeared with herearnest young playwright, and Mrs. Joseph Brownrigg, Dr.Craig, and Aunt Kate sat placidly in chairs on the terrace,and discussed a possible game of bridge later on if MartinPope could be persuaded to make a fourth.

Eve went off to the kitchen to compliment Chris on themeal, and to express the disapproval she often expressedbecause Chris very firmly declined ever to become one ofthe guests at table while some capable hireling took overcontrol in the kitchen. The idea of someone quite unused toher ways making free with all the equipment in her kitchenwas something which went near to horrifying MissCarpenter, and she could not understand why Evecontinued to press her.

“It wouldn't be any pleasure to me,” she assured Eve, “to sitthere and know that out here a stranger was upsetting allmy arrangements, and poking and prying into myprofessional secrets. Besides, I love cooking, and so long

as I get plenty of praise afterwards I’m quite happy. Howwas the apple souffle?” she broke off to ask. “And dideveryone do justice to the cheese straws?”

“Everything was perfect,” Eve assured her. “Simply perfect.”

“And I suppose someone proposed the doctor's health, andyou all wished him Happy Birthday, and that sort of thing? Iheard plenty of laughter while I was getting the coffeeready.”

“Oh yes, it was good fun—and the cake was a triumph!”

“Good! I’m going to have a slice myself when I’ve clearedup here, and then I’m going to steal away up to my roomand put my feet up and read my latest library-book. Now dorun away and cast your glamour over some of the men folk.That black dress is most becoming.”

“But not half as becoming as Mrs. Wilmott’s. She looks likethe Queen of Sheba.”

“Only she’s a little older than the Queen of Sheba was in herprime,” Chris reminded her. “Now, do scram!” she orderedher. “You’re simply getting in my way here.” “Let me helpyou with the washing-up.”

“Don’t be absurd!” Chris exclaimed. “Betty Forster is beingpaid time and a half for the privilege of doing that.” “Oh,well, in that case-”

Chris waved her away, and Eve wandered back along thecorridors, and through the green baize door to the portionof the house that contained all the public rooms. But forsome reason, now that the excitement of the birthday dinnerwas over—and she was always a little anxious on theseoccasions lest something went wrong—she felt suddenlyunusually tired, and she decided that as no one was likelyto miss her for a short while at least, she would spend alittle time in the room which was her favorite room in thehouse, and which had once been Uncle Hilary Petherick’sown special sanctum.

To describe it as a study would have been inadequate, foralthough the walls were lined with books it was a graceful,airy apartment. There was nothing sombre about it or dark.Light streamed in the daytime through wide windows, andat night there were discreetly shaded lights which threw intoprominence the wide white fireplace, with a portrait in oilsabove it. The portrait was heavily framed, and was of ayoung woman who must have been a beauty in her day;indeed, something more than beauty looked out of herheavily-lashed eyes, as grey as wood smoke. Her hair waslike a flame wound about her head, and she had a slender,patrician neck attached to faultless shoulders. Her mouthcurved upwards in an enchanting manner, and was deepand red like a petunia.

Eve stood in the middle of the thick skin hearthrug before

the fireplace and gazed up at her, as she had often gazedsince coming to Treloan. Herself the mistress of the place,she wondered whether she was gazing into the picturedface of a former mistress of it, and if so whether she wasany relation to herself—an ancestress, perhaps, not only ofherself but of Hilary Petherick. The Pethericks had lived atTreloan for many years. They were a fine old Cornishfamily, and Treloan was one of Cornwall’s most gracioushouses.

Slim and straight in her black dress, with hands linkedgracefully behind her back, and the crown of her burnishedhead attracting all the rays of light in the room, she stoodthere and, as always, the peace of the room flowed roundher. Without it even being necessary to seat herself she felt,in the quiet and the restful calm of this room, under thebenevolent, smiling eyes in the portrait, her suddenweariness and curious dejection of spirit drop away fromher, and she was beginning to smile back rather shyly at theportrait when the door behind her opened. It opened soquietly that she did not know it had opened until it clickedshut. And then she turned.

Roger Merlin stood watching her, leaning with slightnegligence against the white-painted door behind him.There was a peculiar look in his eyes—an arrested look—and a faint smile on his mouth seemed to have becomepetrified. He said slowly:

“I didn't expect to find you here.”

“Why not?” she asked. “It is my room.”

“Yes.” He moved forward until he stood beside her on thehearthrug. Together they looked up at the portrait. “It is yourroom, and you are remarkably like that portrait!”

Eve felt a glow almost of pleasure begin to creep throughher.

“Am I?” she asked. “Do you—do you really think so?”

“I don’t need to think. It’s obvious,” he answered. “If youruncle ever saw you, even if it was only when you were quiteyoung, he must have recognized that you and the lady whosat for that painting might have been mother and daughter.You have the same eyes, hair, everything.”

“And yet I don’t think Uncle Hilary ever did see me,” she toldhim. “Although, of course, perhaps I wouldn’t remember.”

“Well, I wouldn’t bother about it,” he answered. “Your UncleHilary wanted you to have this house, and I think he waswise to let you have it—although I think also that he wouldhave shown a greater degree of wisdom if he had also leftyou some of his accumulated wealth to make it possible foryou to maintain the place without filling it with a lot ofstrangers. However . . . ”

He turned away, looked towards two deep arm-chairswhich stood one at each side of the fireplace, and wavedher to one of them.

“Why don’t you sit down?” he said. “You obviously came inhere because you wanted to escape for a little while, and Iwouldn’t like to think that it was I who had driven you awayagain. Icame here for a similar reason. I have been forcedto relive my past, in the shape of all the things I did in Hong-Kong more years ago than I care to remember, for thebenefit of Mrs. Neville Wilmott— who seems to delight inreliving her own past—and I feel a trifle exhausted. And thisroom has always had a soothing effect upon me.”

“It is a very soothing room,” she admitted. “Although I didn’tknow you’d been in here before. But no doubt you cameand saw my uncle here sometimes?”

“Frequently,” he answered. “And usually it was to pester himto sell the place to me. He began to be quite tired of thesight of me.”

“I’m not altogether surprised,” she told him, with a faintsmile which, however, softened her words. “If you chose thesame direct methods as those which you adopted with me,he couldn’t have been exactly pleased to see you. Or, atleast, not always.”

“Thank you for that qualification,” with a smile which had

some of the humor of her own. He selected a cigarette fromhis case and lighted it and handed it over to her, and sheput it between her lips with a sudden little rush ofexcitement because it had actually touched his lips. Whyhad he done that, she wondered? He had never done itbefore. He had always offered her his case. “Admit that youwere a little tired of the rest of us,” he said suddenly, lyingback in the chair which he had taken opposite her. “Admitthat you did actually flee away to this room.”

“But that wouldn’t be polite,” she answered, feelingextraordinarily relaxed as she also lay back with thecigarette with which he had provided her between her lips.“Would it?”

“I’m not so sure,” he replied, “as I came here myself.” Helooked about him at the room. It was like a quiet poolwherein there was nothing that jarred, but only animmeasurable peace.

“I don’t think Treloan was ever meant for guests,” heremarked rather abruptly. “Treloan was meant to dream!”“And your own house?” she asked. “What of that? Wasn’tthat meant to dream as well?”

“Not in the sense that Treloan was meant to do so. Treloanis like a lovely woman who should never be permitted tosoil her hands. I think if I ever owned Treloan”— shewondered, with a secret smile, whether he actually had

given up hope—“I would, whatever else I did with the rest ofit, select this room for my own use, and come to it wheneverlife palled or when I was out of patience, with everything andeveryone else. Here, in this room, if I didn’t find peace Iwould find serenity. Tell me, do you —or don’t you?—feelthe same way about it?”

She lay quietly in her chair, looking at him. She knew whathe meant. She had felt it herself as soon as she enteredTreloan. The whole place had charm, but this quiet cornerof it had something more. It had faded splendor and dignity,and a sensation that vulgar haste and hurry stoppedoutside its walls. The world might fall, but this room wouldstill stay secure, filled with all the memories of the proudmen and women who had graced it at some time oranother— women like that one over the fireplace, creaturesof grace not only of body but of mind, as the serene,intelligent eyes so clearly revealed. Yes; she sighed withoutrealizing it. This room was the hub of the house. It could besanctuary. Uncle Hilary must have found it so or he wouldnot have spent so much of his time within its four walls.

“You do feel what I feel,” Roger Merlin said almosttriumphantly. “And, furthermore, you sighed. Why, MissPetherick, did you sigh?” “Oh, I don’t know,” she confessed.“Unless it was because I couldn’t help feeling regretful thatthe leisurely days when my forebears lived here will neverreturn, and life today is such a different thing. So hectic, and—and futile, somehow.”

“It need not be futile,” he assured her. “It can be full, andsatisfactory, and complete—especially for you, if you wish.”

“How do you mean?” she asked, looking faintly astonished.

“If you marry Pope, shall we say!”

Her straight-gazing grey eyes gave away nothing as shestared back at him.

“But supposing he doesn't want to marry me?”

“He does.” He was about to add: “Any man would!” butstopped himself. He stood up suddenly, leaning hissquared shoulders against the graceful mantelshelf. “Lookat you,” he said. “Look at you in that dress, and with thathair! the chatelaine of Treloan!”

“Running the place as a guest-house to make ends meet,”a little dryly.

“But not once you've married Pope! All that sort of thing willcome to an end.”

“Will it?” she asked, looking at him with an indescribableexpression on her face. It was so odd, she thought, thatboth he and her aunt had chosen the same day to drivehome to her the advantages of marrying a man who had notyet asked her to marry him. But for the fact that

Commander Merlin's obvious desire for her to marry himfilled her with a kind of spreading feeling of loneliness andhollow emptiness, she could almost have laughed, and feltamused. But the fact that he did want her to marry someoneelse could never genuinely amuse her. “Well, you may beright,” she murmured carelessly. “You may be very right.”

“Do you intend to marry him?” he asked, forcing her to stareright back into her eyes.

“I haven’t given the matter serious thought.”

“But you will, won't you? Won’t you?” After staring at her fora moment longer, during which time she felt as if hypnotizedby the staring eyes of a tiger—only instead of being tawnyeyes they were blue, and hard, and brilliant—he movedabruptly over to her and, bending forward, took her hands,lying limply in her lap. Without any resistance from her hedrew her to her feet.

“Since you almost certainly will, and since I'd like you toremember me by something apart from our conversation inthis room tonight, here is a souvenir of the evening!” Andbefore she could prevent him he had drawn her swiftly intohis arms, and bent his dark head over her bright one andclaimed her soft mouth with his lips.

It was a kiss which, quite literally, took her breath away. Shehad been kissed once or twice before in her life, by young

men who had escorted her to a dance or some other socialfunction, and returned her in safety to her own front door.They had exacted what they thought was a legitimatereward. But here was no question of reward or even anyquestion of pleasure. It was not even an experiment, todiscover whether she might like the kiss. It was cool,deliberate, and yet it scorched her almost to the core of herbeing. She could never forget it or the hard feel of his lipsagainst her own; the sudden claiming of his arms when hedrew her into them. And he let her go just as suddenly as hehad adopted his surprise tactics. His eyes gleamed at herstrangely. It might have been by contrast with his darkdinner-jacket, but he looked a little pale.

“There!” he said. “That was something to remember me by,wasn't it?”

Eve stood quite still. She felt burningly angry with him —notbecause he had kissed her, not because he had done sowithout asking her permission, not because he had chosento do so in her own house, as a guest at her dinner party,when the gaily colored young woman who claimed his moreserious interest was outside flirting in the moonlight withMartin Pope amongst the remnants of the azaleas. Oh,none of these things upset her. But what did upset her wasthe knowledge that he had quite calmly accepted the factthat she was to marry a man who could guarantee securityfor her future, if nothing else; a man with whom he mustknow she was not in love—for how many times had she

unwittingly given away, by her unguarded look, her suddenfeeling of pleasure, her delight in his own nearness, the factthat she was in love with him? In love with Roger Merlin,who obviously was not the least little bit in love with her orotherwise he would tell her so!

There was nothing to stop him. Only the obvious fact that hewas in love with someone else!

If his face was pale, hers was suddenly dyed by almostpainful color, and there was so much constriction in herthroat that she could not utter a word. She felt that shehated him. Worse, she could never think of him in futurewithout a feeling of humiliation.

And then the door opened and Martin Pope put in his head.

“Ah!” he said. “Here you are!”

It must have struck him immediately that something hadelectrified the atmosphere between the two who werestanding there before the flower-filled fireplace, but if it didhe was careful not to give away the fact. His expressionwas almost suave, his voice quiet and pleasant and almostsoothing, like the slow flowing of the evening tide far belowthe windows. And he did not beat a hasty retreat. He cameforward into the room.

“Miss Barton was wondering what had become of you,” hesaid to Eve. He proffered his cigarette-case to Roger, but

not to the girl, because she did not like his particular brandof cigarettes. ''She’s hoping to make up a four at bridge,but for once Mrs. Neville Wilmott is not in the mood, andshe thought perhaps Commander Merlin might be willing tobe roped in?”

“Never in this life,” the Commander answered, his voice sobrusque it was almost rude. He directed a keen look atEve. Her color had receded, and she looked rather whiteand fragile in her black dress—rather like a graceful floweron a slender stem which had received a sudden buffet bythe wind. She was still striving to think calmly, and tobehave with the normality which Martin Pope obviouslyexpected.

“I—I'm sorry you had to come and look for me,” she said. “Itwas too bad of me to desert my guests.” She hesitated,looking at him, and then slipped a hand inside his arm andseemed to cling to it. “It’s a bit hot in here. I wonder if you’dlike to take me out for some air?” she said.

“Of course,” he answered, and patted her hand where itrested on his arm. His eyes surveyed her almost with a lookof concern. “We won’t worry about your aunt for the present.She can make up her own bridge four.”

And without another word or a look for Commander Merlinhe led Eve outside, through the French window which wasstanding open and on to the paved terrace.

Roger Merlin, left behind, stood watching their departurewith a strange, cold smile on his face, and when they wereno longer in sight he tossed Martin Pope’s cigarette intothe fireplace and selected and lighted one of his own. Hishand was not altogether steady as he lighted it, but when itwas drawing steadily, and he had inhaled a few quick puffs,he walked back to the fireplace and looked up at theportrait hanging above the mantelpiece. And he was stillgazing up at it when Chris Carpenter looked in to discoverwhy the lights were burning in a room so little used.

C H A P TE R E I G H TE E N

A FEW days later Mr. Pope and Dr. Craig both decidedthat, for reasons which they could not afford to ignore, theirpresence in London, for a week or possibly longer, wasessential, and with many regrets they turned their backs onthe Cornish seas and the glory of high summer which wasapproaching along the colorful coast. Eve drove them intoTruro to catch the Cornish Riviera Express, in which theyhoped to return as quickly as possible, and when she hadwaved farewell to them, fluttering her handkerchief until acurve of the line took them out of sight, and Martin Popehad been forcibly pulled back into his compartment by Dr.Craig, anxious lest he should overbalance out of thewindow on to the track, Eve decided to do some shopping,and made an appointment at the hairdresser’s for ChrisCarpenter. Then she had a teashop lunch, and browsedaround the shelves of a book-shop for half an hour or so,

then realized that it was high time she returned to Treloan.

But somehow the thought of making a success of Treloanhad ceased to be of tremendous importance to her thesedays, and sometimes she wondered whether she and AuntKate had been unwise to invest so much of their money, or,at any rate, Aunt Kate’s money, in such an undertaking.Aunt Kate’s enthusiasm had seemed to her niece to be alittle on the wane, too, during recent weeks —especiallysince their removal to the cottage. Possibly that wasbecause it reminded her of her Surrey cottage, now letfurnished for a six-monthly period, which had alwaysappealed to her much more strongly as a mere home thanthe grandeurs of Treloan Manor. Aunt Kate was at heart asimple soul, and she had simple tastes, which were noteasily indulged in an atmosphere of family portraits andspacious rooms, however beautifully proportioned. Shemuch preferred an evening sitting quietly attending to theholes in Dr. Craig’s socks—to say nothing of other items ofhis underwear, which he handed over to her with themasculine equivalent of a blush—in the serenity of the smallsitting-room at the cottage, to an evening spent upon theterrace at Treloan, dispensing afterdinner coffee to languidguests.

One undeniable truth was that Aunt Kate was becoming alittle tired after the unaccustomed hectic rush of the earlyspring days, which had allowed her so little time to breathe,or relax, or discover what her feelings were on any

particular subject. At fifty-five Miss Barton was still hale andhearty, and she had a tremendous desire to help her niece,but all her life she had been a creature of habit, and nowthere was no time to keep pace with those old habits oreven to form any new ones. She feared sometimes thatSarah was out of her element, too, kept out of the way ofguests in case—just in case!—she should have the badtaste to take such a thing as a dislike to any one of themand a resultant unfortunate nibble at an ankle. Sarah wasnot so young, either, and she missed her regular walks andthe constant companionship of her mistress. She slept onher mistress’s bed at nights, but there were days when shescarcely saw her.

Only Chris Carpenter seemed wholly and completely happyat Treloan, wrapped up in her cooking, and with no otherdesire, apparently, than to be mistress of the great white-tiled kitchen.

Eve took the long way back to Treloan, driving herself to theextreme corner of the bay on which the Stark Point. Hotelstood, but careful to keep out of sight of any of its windows.Roger Merlin had mentioned going abroad, and he mightpossibly have already gone; but she was determined totake no risks. She did not wish to meet him suddenly faceto face—not after the night of Dr. Craig’s birthday dinner.

The day had been one of sudden, intense heat, and shewas glad to feel the cool breeze blowing in from the sea as

she moved slowly along the coast road. As a road, itranked as an exceeding bad one, for it was inclined topeter out every hundred yards or so, and the surface of itwas appalling for such an antiquated car as her own. Butthere was plenty of color on either hand, for the sea pinksblazed on the cliff top, and the tiny hare’s-foot trefoil, andgolden samphire. And the yellow horned poppies danced inthe wind beside the track, and at the foot of the cliffs therewas the sea creeping gently into the sandy coves, as blueas a blaze of larkspur.

As yet the sun was high in the heavens, and the warmth of itfilled Eve's car, despite the sea breeze. She stopped thecar near the edge of a little headland from which she couldstill look across at the Stark Point, and think howwonderfully white and well-cared-for it looked, and how itsmany windows flashed in the sunshine. She felt stronglytempted to pay it a sudden visit, and order tea in one of thecool lounges; but again the thought of coming face to facewith its owner prevented her.

She left the car, and her gaze still remained anchored to theStark Point as she walked to the edge of the headland and,sinking on to the hot, sweet grass, filled her lap with thedainty trefoil, while the breeze blew refreshingly round herhead and lifted the damp hair off her forehead.

This was as good as playing truant, she realized, but foronce she didn’t care much— for, for one thing, with Martin

Pope and Dr. Craig on their way to London, Laurence inOxford, and Mrs. Neville Wilmott dining that night at theStark Point, there was not a large number to prepare dinnerfor. Chris and Aunt Kate could cope, if it came to that, withthe mere handful who remained to be fed. But she was notin the habit of shirking her responsibilities, and all in goodtime she would return and enter into a discussion afterdinner with Aunt Kate and Chris as to how they were to getmore visitors to replace the ones who were gone, if onlytemporarily, and how and by what means they shouldexpand their system of advertising.

It was a nightly subject, or very nearly nightly. Andsometimes Eve knew the perverse desire to say that shehad no intention of doing anything at all to tempt morevisitors to Treloan, that it was not in her to take kindly tostrangers taking possession of a cherished house, andrather than go on letting the iron enter into her soul on thisaccount she would let Roger Merlin have it. And he, with hisflair for running really successful hotels, would no doubt putit on the map, as Martin Pope had once said he felt sureshe would do, in the shortest possible time, and as a resultadd appreciably to his bank-balance.

She and Aunt Kate were merely depleting their bank-balance trying to keep it going, or doing very little better. Itwas a depressing thought—or somehow it had becomeacutely depressing since the night of the dinner-party.

Sometimes she wanted to leave Cornwall for good, andnever see it again. She felt that the very sea mocked her,because it knew she was tackling an impossible task. Andthe alternative? Marry Martin Pope, when and ifhe askedher, and live there in comfort, as Aunt Kate had suggested.Or the second alternative, and the one she would almostcertainly follow if it ever really came to the point, was toreturn, defeated, to London, and take up her residenceonce more in a dreary London flat or bed-sitting-room, andget herself a job that would leave her no time to sigh overthe memory of larkspur-blue seas and emerald-coveredcliff-tops sweet with summer wild flowers.

She was sinking into a kind of apathetic dream of what herfuture life would be if and when she decided to give upTreloan, when the loud hooting of a motor-horn caused herto jerk out of her abstraction almost violently. She looked upto see that another car had come to rest behind her own,and that its owner was objecting to the fact that herstationary vehicle was blocking his progress. But whatbrought her to her feet in a rush, embarrassed pink colorrising up in her cheeks and an almost despairing sensationwithin her that she had dallied too long, was the fact that thecar which she had not even heard arrive upon the scenewas huge and cream-colored, and its driver was only toofamiliar, while the outsize bull-dog lolling on the back seatwas just as familiar.

“Oh, I'm sorry!” she exclaimed, and rushed to re-enter her

car. But Commander Merlin, descending unhurriedly fromhis, intercepted her.

“I wasn't sure it was you,” he said when she reached him.“You looked like a mermaid dreaming on the edge of thecliff, but your hair proclaimed you hailed from Treloan.”

He sounded perfectly friendly and pleasant, but shedeliberately avoided meeting his eyes and her voicesounded stiff as she answered him.

“I didn’t realize that someone might come along—notanother car, I mean. It’s an unfrequented spot, and I thoughtI had it to myself.”

“Instead of which I happen to be returning from a visit on theother arm of the bay, and this is my most direct road backto the Stark Point.” A faint note of mockery invaded hisvoice. “Too bad, isn’t it when I’m the last person you wantedto see just now! ”

She felt the color deepen in her cheeks, but suddenly shefound strength to look at him, and she was faintly surprisedto discover that there was nothing in the least mocking inhis eyes. Indeed, they might have been the eyes of a casualacquaintance with whom she had never crossed mentalswords, or lived through moments of breathless innerexcitement, or known the violent disturbances of a kiss.This well-dressed, smiling, affable person would never

seize her in his arms and leave his hall-mark upon her outof pure spite—for what other motive could he have had? —or be rude to her because she wouldn’t let him takepossession of her home. He was a kind of neutralpersonality who had no wish to offend and certainly nodesire to impress. He was different in some strange way,and she was not sure that she like the difference.

“Look,” he said, as if he could think of no reason at all whyshe should be likely to refuse him, “it’s a very hot afternoon,and you don't seem to be in a tremendous hurry, and myhotel is near. Why don't you come with me and have a cupof tea in comfort and coolness, where you can relax for fiveminutes? I’m sure you do an inordinate amount of rushingabout waiting on people who do nothing to merit it, apartfrom the fact that they pay their bills to you, and it will be achange for you to be waited on. What do you say?” withalmost a coaxing note.

Eve was so surprised that for a moment she could saynothing, and he saw the astonishment brim over her face.He could also see, once her color subsided, that she hadrather a wan, tired look about her, and in her simple linenfrock she looked very young, and a little forlorn, somehow,and not very ready to do battle with anyone. Indeed, shestruck him as being slightly exhausted after some sort of amental battle, and he actually laid a hand upon her arm andgripped it gently.

“You’re not terribly busy just now, are you? I know that Popeand Dr. Craig went back to London this morning—oh,”lightly, “my spies are everywhere!—and Miss Bartonwouldn’t begrudge you a change of scenery. Besides, I’vetwice enjoyed your hospitality at Treloan; you’ve never hadan opportunity to enjoy mine! ”

“I am rather thirsty. In fact, I was thinking I’d like a cup of teamore than anything else in the world when you came alongjust now,” she admitted. “But I ought to be getting back, allthe same.”

“Nonsense!” he exclaimed. “And, what’s more, I’m notgoing to allow you to go back—not without some tea! Thatis, if you can face having it with me?”

She found herself smiling at him unwillingly.

“Oh yes, I can face it!”

“Good!”

His fingers released their hold of her arm, but before theydid so they increased their pressure slightly.

“Now, hop into that antiquated car of yours and see if youcan get the engine started. I’ll follow behind. But give meplenty of warning if you feel you’re about to disintegrate. Idon’t trust these models of ancient vintage.” But despite hisuncomplimentary remarks about her means of transport,

Eve, for once, could take no offence at anything he said,and she preceded him down the cliff road to the Stark PointHotel, where raised eyebrows greeted their arrival as theydrove into the courtyard.

The two cars, parked one behind the other, certainly lookeda trifle incongruous, especially as Eve had found little timelately to carry out her daily routine and smarten theappearance of hers with a duster. But as she stepped outand stood looking up at the imposing white facade of thehotel, there was nothing wrong with her appearance for allthe simplicity of her attire. Roger Merlin released Jocelynfrom the back of his car, and together they all three enteredthe welcome coolness and shade of the perfectly plannedentrance.

Eve felt as if she was living and moving in a dream as theywere carried up in a lift to somewhere far above the groundfloor. The lift-boy, in his smartly tailored uniform and littlecap, with the name of the Stark Point in gilt letters abovethe peak, the glimpse of expensively carpeted corridorsthrough the lift gates, and white doors stretching away in alldirections, made her realize how puny were her efforts tocompete with so much established success. And the manbeside her, looking down at her from his superior heightwith what she felt sure was a slightly humorous twinkle in hiseyes, did he know that she was already feeling severalsizes smaller as a result of the perfection which he hadachieved?

“This way,” he said when they stepped out of the lift, and heplaced his hand beneath her elbow and guided her along acorridor noiseless with crimson carpet. “This floor was oncededicated to our domestic staff, but in these days theyoccupy rooms on the floor below. I have my being up hereamongst the chimney-pots.”

But, even so, it was a distinctly pleasant being, or so Eveinstantly decided when she was permitted her first glimpseof his combined sitting-room-living-room, which had anoutlook uninterrupted by anything whatsoever far across thebay. And the furnishing was in such excellent taste, althoughsufficiently masculine to please her somehow, that her eyesactually widened with her approval. He saw the little pinkflush of excitement which rose up in her cheeks, and herdelicately formed lips fell a little apart.

“Oh,” she exclaimed, “it is nice!”

“Do you think so?” he asked.

Actually, it was a room designed by an artist with dueallowance made for the sloping roof, and the harmonizingtone of the curtains, carpet, and chair-covers was neutraland soothing; a kind of pearly grey, which went very wellwith the unstained oak of the small sideboard andbookshelves. There was a bowl of deep purple violas on anoccasional table, and Eve noticed a pipe-rack against thewall, and a knee-hole desk equipped with a business-like

green-shaded lamp at which he probably sometimesworked late in the evening. But when she was led outthrough a doorway which opened outwards on to a kind ofroof-garden, her appreciation mounted by leaps andbounds. The roof-garden was equipped with sun-umbrellas,comfortable wicker lounging chairs, and little tables. Therewas a high parapet to prevent any sensation of dizziness,and dwarf shrubs in gaily-painted tubs, and a powerful long-range telescope set up for the obvious purpose of viewingany chance shipping which entered the bay.

“Better and better,” Eve exclaimed, as he drew forward oneof the most comfortable chairs for her. “I’d no idea youcould be so completely self-contained, and yet still live in anhotel.”

“I’d rather have your cottage,” he answered. “It’s not even onthe telephone, and you can’t be disturbed once you’vesettled down to enjoy your evening.” He touched a bellpush, and a waiter appeared. “Bring tea,” he ordered. “Andan especially nice tea for this young lady!”

Eve was looking round for Annette and expecting her tomake her appearance at any moment. She looked in aslightly puzzled fashion at Roger Merlin, and he answeredthe look with one of his faintly one-sided smiles.

“Are you expecting Miss Le Frere to join us? She doesn’tshare every moment of my waking life, you know!” He

crushed out the stub of his cigarette in an ash-tray, andoffered her his case before lighting another. “At the momentshe’s in London, indulging in an orgy of shopping. Annetteis hoping I’m going to let her fly with me to Switzerland onFriday, but I’ve told her I’m going to be far too busy to bebothered with her.”

“Oh!” Eve exclaimed, and watched the tea-trolley beingpropelled in her direction. “Then you won’t be here muchlonger?”

“Not for a little time, no. The length of my absence ratherdepends on the state of things when I arrive there and howvitally my presence is needed. When you start runninghotels you say goodbye to a lot of freedom, as you'veprobably already discovered. And this hotel is one I’vetaken over quite recently, and which was not doing too wellunder the old ownership. But since it’s belonged to me Igather that things are improving. Or, at any rate, I hope so.”

“And is that the result of your personal genius?” sheinquired, as she poised the sugar-tongs over his cup. “Youreally have a flair for this sort of thing, haven’t you?”

“Have I? If so, I only discovered it when necessity wasdriving me, and when my first love, the Navy, no longerwanted anything to do with me.”

She wondered whether she dared ask him whether he

really had been rather badly injured during the war years,and whether the after-effects had necessitated his giving upthe Service, but decided that the question was somehowtoo personal at this stage of their acquaintanceship, andwhile his eyes were resting upon her with a look in themwhich did not actually discompose her, but whichbewildered her a little. Neither mocking, nor teasing, nor inany sense of the word provocative, it had an ingredientwhich betrayed the fact that for some reason he found itpleasant to look at her, and that he was indulging theopportunity so long as it lasted. And yet, why? Why did helike to sit and study her like that, and to be charming andfriendly and considerate to her, when only a very few nightsago. . . .

She brought herself up short as that thought intruded, andkept her eyes lowered in case he should, by accident, beable to read her thoughts. And although she knew that itwould be more polite, and possibly a little more in keeping,with the uniqueness of their situation alone together upthere above all the flourishing workings of his hotel, tomerely make a pretence of enjoying the dainty tea on thetrolley, she suddenly discovered that she was hungry afterher light lunch, and did full justice to the feather-light scones,and the Cornish cream, and jam, and delectable-lookingpastries placed temptingly before her.

When she had completely satisfied her appetite and refilledhis cup—the only use he apparently had for afternoon-tea

was the beverage itself, taken together with a cigarette—she sat beak in her chair, and a tiny sigh escaped her.

“Thank you very much,” she said. “I really enjoyed that.”

“I rather gathered that you did,” he told her, a twinkle in hiseyes.

A faint blush invaded her cheeks.

“It’s such a change for me to be waited on. At Treloan we’rerather inclined to run round in circles, getting in oneanother’s way. But in time, no doubt, we shall be betterorganized.”

“No one can run before they can walk,” he replied to that, atrifle enigmatically. “But you’ve an excellent cook in MissCarpenter. You’d be wise to hang on to her.” “Oh, we shall—or, at least, I shall. I don’t know that Aunt Kate will alwaysbe with me.”

“But I thought she was the life and soul of the party, as itwere? The prime organizer of all that you are doing? Don’ttell me her enthusiasm is beginning to weaken at this earlystage, because I don’t think I can believe that. Miss Bartonis made of sterner stuff.”

“Yes, I know,” Eve agreed with him. “But her life up till nowhas been so very different, and it's not easy to acclimatizeoneself to the kind of hectic existence we lead at present

after being more or less set in quite different ways. Isometimes think that it’s a little bit too much for Aunt Kate,and I know that Dr. Craig thinks so, too.” “So Dr. Craigkeeps an eye on her, does he?” with a glint of a smile.“Well, well! The gay old dog! And he a hardened bachelor!It just shows that even hardened bachelors weakensometimes, doesn't it.”

“Does it?” she asked, with an appearance of innocence,although she was wondering whether he would describehimself as a “hardened bachelor.” But as he was manyyears younger than Dr. Craig the appellation would scarcelyapply. And, in any case, there was Annette.

“So you think you’re likely to lose your aunt, do you?” hesaid. “If not some more worthy cause, at least to Dr. Craig!”

“Oh no!” she tried to correct the impression swiftly. “I merelysaid that I thought my aunt was finding it rather a strain. But,in any case, she’s been wonderful, helping me as she has,and I know she wants to get back to her cottage in Surrey,where her heart is and where most of her friends are.Cornwall is a strange land to her, but to me it’s beginning tobe home.” She broke off. “Perhaps that’s because I’venever had a proper home of my own since my parentsdied.”

“And when did your parents die?”

“They were both killed in an accident when I was sixteen.”

“I see,” he said, and stared hard at the top of the occasionaltable on which was the ash-tray in which he was grindingout the end of yet another cigarette. “We neither of us havebeen very fortunate where our parents were concerned,have we? Mine also perished simultaneously during anunwise visit to London in the middle of the blitz. But as theywere at their wits’ end to know what to do about this house,it may have been a merciful way out.”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” she exclaimed, with sudden .warmsympathy. For at least she could feel for him, being able torecall very clearly to mind what it had meant to her when herown parents were so abruptly snatched away from her.

He looked at his watch suddenly.

“Don’t think I'm hurrying you,” he said, “but I'm going to driveyou home, and that being so I think we ought to start. I’ll seethat your car is delivered safely to you at Treloan.”

“Oh, but there’s no need for you to waste your time drivingme home,” she told him at once, rising and standing besidehim. “Really, my car may look deplorable, but it runssmoothly enough, and I’m fresh as a daisy now that I’ve hadthe tea. Honestly, Commander Merlin, I’d much rather youdidn’t.” “Would you?” He was looking directly at her, andconfusing her by the odd intensity of his gaze.

“I’m afraid that didn’t sound very polite,” she stammered.“What I meant was that I don’t want to take up your time,especially when I’ve the means of getting myself home.”

“Then you can forget that means,” he answered her curtly,and rang the bell again for his servant, who appearedalmost immediately. “I’m going out again, Hargreaves,” hesaid. “If any messages come in for me, make a note ofthem. I don’t suppose I shall be long.” “Very well, sir,”Hargreaves responded, and looked at Eve with respectfulcuriosity. It wasn’t like his master to entertain lady friends totea in his private flat, and he noted that this one had strikinghair—red hair. Red and black! he said to himself. Thatshould be a good mixture!

CHAPTER NINETEEN

ALTHOUGH she was only mildly surprised when her niecedid not return in time for tea; Aunt Kate grew definitelyastonished when the dinner hour arrived and still she hadnot put in an appearance. Chris started dishing up theevening meal in the kitchen, but the only suggestion shecould offer was that Eve had been delayed for somereason or other, such as a burst tyre or some other disasterto the car.

“So long as she and the car haven’t gone over the cliff!”Aunt Kate exclaimed, feeling, however, a little anxious. Andthen the telephone rang in the hall.

“Hello?” said Aunt Kate, speaking eagerly into themouthpiece. “Is that you, Eve? Oh, thank goodness it is! Iwas beginning to be quite concerned about you.’

“I’m sorry.” Eve’s voice sounded rather faint, and it was notquite her natural voice. “I meant to be back in good time,but I

may be a little late. Not terribly late, but-” “You mean you

won’t be home to dinner?”

“Yes—no; I mean no, I won’t. I hope you’ll be able tomanage ...?”

“Of course we’ll be able to manage!” But as she replacedthe receiver Miss Barton’s grizzled eyebrows were benttogether a little, and there was a puzzled look in her eyes.“Now, what in the world does that mean?” she askedherself. “She can't be alone, or she’d never stay out all thistime; but who—who is she with? And why didn’t she say?”

She had retired to the cottage, and was sitting in herfavorite attitude with her feet up, relaxing with a book, whileSarah occupied her basket, when she heard the car stopoutside the gate and footsteps came quickly up the path.Eve appeared in the doorway of the sitting-room, stillwearing the blue and white linen dress she had set out inthat morning, with the narrow white belt and the white

sandals that went with it, and some deep blue periwinkleflowers fastened carelessly to the front of the dress.

She looked as if candles had been lighted in her eyes, butshe glanced a little uncertainly at Aunt Kate.

“I'm sorry—I really am sorry that I left you and Chris to copewith everything this evening,” she apologized at once.

“Don't be silly!” Aunt Kate returned rather shortly. “Butwhere have you been, and what have you been doing? Andwhy couldn't you tell me on the telephone?”

“As a matter of fact, I nearly did—tell you, I mean. But Ithought it would be such a surprise to you that it would bebetter if I waited until I got home. I’ve been having dinnerwith Commander Merlin,” she added.

“Oh!” Aunt Kate exclaimed. “And why should I have been socompletely astonished at that?”

“I don't know,” Eve admitted, taking her usual chair andstaring ahead of her with a somewhat bemused expressionon her face. “Except that I don’t make a habit of meetinghim, and you might have thought it a little strange.”

“After living in this world for over fifty-five years I findnothing, or practically nothing, really strange,’ Aunt Kate toldher, drawing the little table which supported the coffee- traycloser to her chair, and pouring her niece out a cup. “And

so long as you enjoyed yourself, I don’t mind in the least.But where did you have dinner, and was it a particularlynice one? And what were you doing with yourself all thehours before you had dinner? You took Dr. Craig and Mr.Pope in to catch the ten o’clock train this morning!”

Eve gave her an account of her day, including tea at theStark Point Hotel, and the unexpected drive afterwardsthrough some entirely new Cornish scenery, and the well-served and admirably cooked dinner at a little fishing innmuch farther along the coast. It had been an inn even nicerthan The Smuggler—although, no doubt, Tom Geake woulddisagree with her—and had recently figured in a newBritish film dealing with the old days of wrecking, when theCornish coast was a wild place indeed, and a lawless anda frightening place as well, if the details of the film were inevery way correct. Eve made up her mind that as soon asthe film was released she would be one of the first to goand see it, if it were at all possible, if only for the reason thatit would enable her to live over again the unexpectedpleasure of this wholly delightful evening.

“Well, at least I can tell that you did enjoy yourself,” AuntKate said. “You have that look about you. And when are yougoing to see Commander Merlin again ? Is this sort of thinglikely to be repeated ?”

Eve's expression went suddenly almost blank, as if thecandles that had been lighting her eyes had been abruptly

extinguished, and she felt as if she had been ratherruthlessly dropped from an exalted position high amongstthe clouds, and come down to earth with an unpleasantthud.

“As a matter of fact, Commander Merlin is leaving thiscountry on Friday. He's not sure how long he’ll be away.”

“I see,” Aunt Kate remarked, and Eve was quite sure shedid not see at all.

Eve stared at her coffee-cup and tried not to remember thatlast moment at the gate, only a few minutes ago, whenRoger Merlin had climbed back into his car, and she hadwatched him drive away into the night. Her heart had beensinging, ridiculously of course, because the evening behindher had been something she had never expected to enjoywith him, and his parting close clasp of her hand had lefther fingers tingling. Tingling so much that she had rubbedthem gently, as she stood there at the gate.

And, in the starshine, her cheeks had been flushed — theyhad cooled down a little by the time she entered the house— and her eyes had glowed because never once, duringthe evening, had the man who had so often antagonized herdone anything that did not altogether meet with herapproval. Indeed, for once they had behaved likecompletely normal human beings who knew that they likedone another (the fact that, where she was concerned, the

word “like” was a poor one to describe the kind of feelingshe had long been nursing in her breast for the owner ofTreloan’s successful rival, the Stark Point Hotel, hadnothing whatever to do with it) and he had put himself out tobe as entertaining and charming to her as possible. Evenmore charming than while they were having tea, for by thattime she, too, had thawed so much that it took little to makeher realize that there was no longer any undercurrent of ill-feeling between them, and their thoughts, outlook,ambitions, and secret dreams were not so very dissimilar.Their mutual enthusiasm for the old and the venerable, forinstance, once discussed, had been more than enough todraw them together, and she could quite understand hispassion for the mellowed loveliness of Treloan and themany pieces of choice and antique furniture it contained. Ifshe had understood him better during the early days of theirmeeting, or if he, perhaps, had expressed himself with alittle more regard for her feelings, she might even haveyielded the place up to him, and then there would neverhave been any antagonism between them at all — or wouldthere?

She wondered as she looked at him in the light of theswinging oil lamp in the tiny inn dining-room, where theyhad had dinner alone together. His eyes were so blue theywere exactly the color of the sea when the wind ruffled itand clouds went flying overhead across a summer sky —and although she knew that they could sometimes appearas hard as blue glass, tonight she had discovered that they

could smile quite gently when they wanted to do so, and onone occasion she had surprised a hint of something liketenderness in them when she had confessed to losing acertain amount of weight since taking up the task of runningan hotel, and he had noticed that the flowerlike perfection ofher hands was marred a little by signs of recent domestictoil.

“It’s one thing to live in an hotel,” he told her. “But it’sanother thing to try to keep its wheels running smoothly.”“Especially when you’re handicapped by lack of funds,” Eveagreed.

“With or without funds, I’m not sure it’s the right job in life foryou.”

In her heart she was not sure, either. She was not really cutout to be a successful business woman, or so he wassecretly afraid sometimes. There were other things shehankered after — and they were more simple things; butshe had a feeling that they would be far more satisfying. Ahome — and a husband — and

children! . . .

But to a genuine career-woman those would not beimportant.

“I haven't made up my mind what my right job in life is yet.”she confessed.

“Haven’t you?” He stared at her rather hard. “Well, I wouldn’ttrouble my head about it for the moment if I were you.” headvised her. “Just go on as you are.”

Her heart sank a little.

If she just went on as she was, one of these days he wouldhave married Annette, or someone very like Annette, andthen how would she bear living in the same corner of theworld, on the same stretch of coast, with him and his wife,and seeing him perhaps often?

But long before the evening had a chance to be spoiled sheresisted the temptation to look ahead into the future, and bythe time she suddenly realized that it was growing late, andAunt Kate would be wondering more and more what wasthe reason why she had not returned to Treloan earlier, shehad so thoroughly enjoyed it that her enjoyment was plainlygiven away by her face.

“Thank you,” she said when they said good night, “it's beena lovely evening!”

“We’ve both played truant,” he answered. “But I think, on thewhole, it was worth it!”

But now Aunt Kate had suddenly picked the bubble —brought her down to earth with her commonplace questionas to when she intended to see Commander Merlin again.

For Commander Merlin had not even mentioned seeing heragain. Although he was travelling up to London the followingday, and flying to Zurich on the day following that, he hadtaken no impressive farewell of her, and given her noindication of the date when he intended to be back inEngland. Looked at now, in the living-room of the cottage,with the warm glow of simple contentment fading from herrapidly, and the evening already nothing more than amemory she would have to hug to her bosom often if shewas to get any sort of satisfaction out of the days ahead,the obvious fact that the man who had entertained her, andcharmed away the last remnants of her mistrust of him, hadno particular desire to see her again, stared her in the face.And it was a fact there seemed to be no gainsaying,otherwise— well, otherwise he would have told her, at least,when she might

look to see him again. Even if it was months ahead.

Aunt Kate seemed to be fussing unnecessarily overcollecting the coffee-cups, and when she had carried themand the tray into the little kitchen, she came back and stoodlooking down at Eve. with rather a peculiar expression onher face.

“Are you very tired to-night?” she asked. “Or do you feel likea little talk?”

Eve looked up at her in some astonishment.

“What about?' she asked. “Not Treloan, I hope, because I'mnot desperately interested in running an hotel to-night.” “No,darling, not about Treloan. At least, not directly. Indirectly, ofcourse, it concerns it.”

Eve’s eyes opened wider. She tried to snatch herself awayfrom the mesmeric influence of the past few hours.

“You sound very mysterious,” she said. “Don't tell me you,too, have had about enough?”

“Well, not enough in fact, I’ve quite enjoyed myself. But.”“You want to go back and live in Surrey?”

“Not Surrey—Twickenham!” Aunt Kate astounded her byreplying simply.

Eve sat bolt upright in her chair, and suddenly it was noeffort to forget the events of this most unusual day, one ofthe highlights of which had been tea at the Stark PointHotel. Aunt Kate was still standing in front of her, and Eveput out her hands and thrust her down gently once more intoher chair, so that she subsided with a faint creaking ofupholstery and a look on her face that was almost laughablyapologetic.

“I can’t bear you standing in front of me,” Eve told her, “andbreaking shattering news to me. You’re going to marry Dr.Craig, aren’t you?”

Aunt Kate opened her mouth as if to pour forth volubleapologies, but her niece cut her short.

“And why not?” she demanded. “Why shouldn’t you marryDr. Craig? I had a feeling that it wouldn’t be long before oneor other of you made an announcement that afternoon whenyou showed me the pyjamas you had bought for him, andwhen you admitted that you liked fussing over him. Andalthough you tried to deny it when I teased you . . . You did,didn’t you? Why, I wonder? Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“Well, for one thing, I hadn’t quite made up my mind,” AuntKate admitted, “and for another, I wasn’t in the least certainhow you would take it.”

“You silly old thing!” Eve chided her. “Of course I’mdelighted.”

“Are you?” Miss Barton looked definitely relieved. “But whatabout Treloan, and all the help I’ve more or less sworn togive you? How will you manage without my assistance?Although I know it’s not anything to write home about. But atthe moment you can't afford to employ anyone else, andalthough I know you’ve got Chris, she can only stick to herown department. If it would make things easier for you, Iwon’t think about getting married for another year.”

“Nonsense!” Eve exclaimed briskly. “As if I’d allow you tosacrifice yourself.”

“But it wouldn’t be a sacrifice—or not exactly, and I won’tthink about getting married for another year.” “John”—shecolored quite delicately as she mentioned his name—”Johnwould understand. He realizes what an uphill task there liesahead of you, and it would hardly be fair for me to tell you tocarry on alone, when it was largely through me that youdecided to run Treloan as an hotel at all.”

“It was only partly through you,” Eve reminded her. “Theother reason was to spite Commander Merlin!”

Her aunt looked at her curiously. Eve had something in herface which she did not quite like—a kind of twisted, forceddefiance which would seem to indicate that she was notparticularly happy about something at the moment, althoughshe had come in only a short while ago looking positivelyradiant. Then what had caused the change in her? Her ownrather tactless question as to when the Commander hadarranged to see her again?

Was it possible that the Commander had said nothing at allabout seeing him again, after she had given up an entireafternoon and evening to him, and wore an expression inher eyes which gave away plainly to her sole remainingclose relative that she,at least, was very ready and willing tosee him again, despite the fact that she had once declaredshe detested him?

Violent dislike is so often the forerunner of something

entirely the opposite, Aunt Kate reflected, especially when itis dislike formed by a young and attractive woman for aforceful and magnetic and demanding male! A male withthe somewhat intriguing personality of Roger Merlin, withhis dark good looks and brilliant eyes, and his ability tomake a success of his life.

“I've been thinking,” Eve confessed, while Miss Bartonstudied

her, “that trying to run Treloan as an hotel is a mistake, andthat it will become a much more serious mistake if I persistin it. And now that you’ve decided to marry Dr. Craig, whyshouldn’t I give up the idea entirely, and sell out? I couldalways find a buyer.” “Who?” Aunt Kate asked.

“Oh, possibly Commander Merlin. I think he still wants it.”“And what will you do then, once you’ve sold out?”

Eve lifted her shoulders lightly.

“I might try seeing something of that world. I could go forone of those romantic round-the-world cruises, taking Chriswith me as a companion. The money I’d get for Treloan andits contents would easily make that possible.”

“And after that?” Kate persisted.

Again the little shrug.

“Oh, I don’t know. But I suppose I’d settle somewhere—perhaps a flat in London. London’s a good place to settle inwhen you’re not quite sure what to do with your life.”

“Don’t be silly!” Aunt Kate reproved her crisply. “You knowvery well that you love Treloan, and I’m quite sure that youwouldn’t be happy away from it if you were ever unwiseenough to give it up—especially to Commander Merlin.And even he would think that you were behaving weakly.”

“Does it very much matter what he thinks?” Eve inquired,with a tiny, bleak smile on her lips.

“Well, as to that, I don’t know! But one thing I do know is thatyou must carry on here, and if you won’t promise me thatyou will carry on here, despite possible difficulties, I shalldecline to get married. And if I go to

my grave a lonely old spinster it will be entirely your fault,and when you're a lonely old spinster yourself you’ll thinkhow unwise you were.”

Eve couldn't help laughing.

“And what about Dr. Craig? Is he to go to his grave a lonelyold bachelor, too?”

“If you’re going to be difficult, certainly!”

Eve got up and gave her an all-enveloping hug.

“You win!” she exclaimed. “You know very well that I’m dyingto be a bridesmaid at your wedding; but if I becomebankrupt after a year or so of trying to do somethingimpossible with Treloan, I hope you'll take your propershare of the blame.”

“More than that,” Aunt Kate answered. “You can come andlive with me at Twickenham. And John asked me to assureyou that his home will always be your home if you ever needit. So don’t forget that!”

Eve was quite touched.

“Did he?” she said. “How sweet of him! And how nice,” sheadded, “to think that you’re marrying a really nice man!’’

C H A P T E R T W E N T Y

THE wedding took place in September—a goldenSeptember which almost outdid the splendor of that reallyperfect summer. For it had been extraordinarily free fromany prolonged spell of either rain or mist, for both of whichthe West Country is famous, and which makes its grass sogreen and luxuriant, and causes its spring flowers toappear weeks ahead of spring flowers in any other part ofthe country.

Because it had been such a dry summer the leaves turnedquickly on the trees, and the gardens of Treloan seemed to

blaze with the hues of early autumn. But the roses whichhad filled the air with sweetness all summer were asmagnificent as ever, and it was roses which decorated thehuge table in the dining-room for the wedding-breakfastwhich followed the simple ceremony in the village churchwhich united Miss Kathleen Mary Barton and Dr. JohnEdward Craig.

This time Chris had not attempted to make the cake. It hadbeen ordered and created in London, and delivered in timefor the Great Day. And in all its magnificence of virginalwhite and silver, with some real orange blossom cascadingfrom a fluted vase and trailing down the sides of it, it stoodin the middle of the table and was the cynosure of all eyeswhen the party returned from the church.

That is to say, next to the new Mrs. Craig herself, who wasso flustered by the turn of events that it did not need a glassof champagne at the breakfast to confuse her still further.But her eyes shone determinedly all the same, and thesparkle in them was the undoubted sparkle of happiness.Looking at her Eve thought she looked nicer than she hadprobably ever looked in her life before, for even in heryoung days Aunt Kate could never have been a beauty.

But today Aunt Kate had certainly discovered something;whether it was a new poise, or a new dignity, or merely theeffect of the Cornish air on her rather-more-cared-for-these-days complexion. And her lavender-blue two-piece

was so absolutely right for her, and her little hat with thewisp of veiling lent her quite a coquettish appearance.Certainly Dr. Craig seemed more than satisfied with theway she looked, and she could scarcely believe that thissprucely- turned-out old gentleman in the new grey suit, withcarefully trimmed moustache, had actually become herhusband. Her husband!

“I can’t believe it, my dear!” she said to Eve, when thetoasts were over and the laughter and good wishes haddied down temporarily, and they were alone together in theroom which was no longer her own room at the cottage.She looked around it, with its dainty dimity curtains, and thedressing-table standing in a petticoat of net over a pinktaffeta underskirt. It even had a telephone beside the bed, athing she had never had in her life before. “And I can’tbelieve that I shan't be sleeping in this room tonight! Oh,Eve, my pet, I really do hate leaving you!”

“Don't be silly!” Eve said briskly, because she was feelingfar from brisk herself, and she was going to miss Aunt Katemore than she would certainly ever have confessed to AuntKate herself. In fact, she dreaded the thought of sayinggoodbye to her. She wished her all the happiness in theworld, but she wished also that she and Dr. Craig had notdecided on Italy for a honeymoon. Italy was wonderful, but itwas a long way from Cornwall! “Think what a marvelloustime you'll have drifting down the Grand Canal in a gondola,and how you’ll simply love being serenaded by one of those

romantic-looking gondoliers! And take a look at St. Mark’sfor me— and don’t die when you see Naples! But send memasses of picture post-cards. And remember spaghetti isfattening! ”

“Don't worry, darling,” Aunt Kate replied, with a faint sigh inthe words. “I’ve never been in the least fond of spaghetti. Ialways think it's rather revolting to see Italians trying to pushit into their mouths with a fork.”

“But at least they do know how to eat it, which we don't!”“Well, John won’t let me eat it, because I’m quite sure hewould hate to see my waistline increasing, and, as a matterof fact, I’m going in seriously for slimming exercises when Iget back.” She looked for a moment, fondly,

at her niece. ‘'Darling, you look so nice in that dress.” It wasrather more of a delphinium-blue than her own, and soft andfilmy-looking, with a finely pleated georgette skirt, and aneat, swathed bodice. Into the bodice were tucked twoyellow tea-roses, which had, been extracted from thebouquet she had carried as Aunt Kate’s one attendant inthe church, and on her arresting hair was a kind of blownleaf of a hat constructed of honey-colored velvetornamented with a solitary black velvet marguerite. “I don’tthink I’ve ever seen you look nicer.”

“Thank you,” Eve replied, smiling. “And that goes for you,too, if it's any boost to your morale.”

“Well, as a matter of fact, it is,” Aunt Kate admitted.“Although I don’t suppose many people look their worst ontheir wedding-day.” She wandered round the room,collecting her gloves, and turning the key in her dressing-case. “I do think it was a pity our nearest neighbor wasn’table to be present at my wedding.”

“Our nearest neighbor? Oh,” Eve broke off to exclaim, “youmean—Commander Merlin?”

“Yes; and that little French girl who trails around after him.”She gave Eve an apparently casual glance. “She wouldhave been fun, in something quite startling for the occasion,I expect.”

“I imagine she must have persuaded Commander Merlin totake her with him to Switzerland,” Eve said rather quietly. “Ihaven’t seen anything of her for weeks.”

“Or him?”

“No.”

“And he’s not the kind of man who writes letters— exceptbusiness letters!” She gave Eve another look, and thendumped her dressing-case beside the piled-up suitcasesnear the door. “There! That’s everything, I think!” Shemoved over and took the girl tightly into her arms.“Goodbye, my dear! And God bless you!”

“God bless you”Eve answered in a slightly muffled voice.“You’re sure you won’t marry Martin Pope if he asks you?”“No,” with a half-smothered laugh. “Not even if he asks me!”“Oh, well. . . !” The new Mrs. John Edward Craig tookanother hasty glance at herself in the mirror, and thendecided that it was time they went downstairs.

The final farewells were soon over, and the car that wascarrying the newlyweds to the railway station in Trurodisappeared down the drive. Mrs. Neville Wilmott, who hadbeen slightly bored by the ceremony, but appreciated thechampagne, went indoors to change, after havingannounced that she would be dining that night at the StarkPoint.

“At least it’s a little more lively than this place,” sheremarked rather pointedly to Eve, “even if CommanderMerlin is still away. And, as a matter of fact, I've beenthinking that I’ll spend a week or so there before it closesdown for the winter. And after that I may go to Italy, or atleast somewhere where I can be sure of some sunshine.”She had decided that there was little hope of Martin Popeoffering her another cruise in his yacht, and treated himsomewhat distantly these days.

As soon as she could do so, after assisting Chris and theextra staff engaged solely for the wedding to clear up someof the mess in the dining-room, Eve made her escape fromthe house, and because she was not in the least anxious to

enter into conversation with anyone just then, wandered asfar away from it as possible. Her favorite haunt, onoccasions such as this, was the cliff-top, for there she wasalways sure of a breeze when the weather was warm, andthere she could look out over the sea, and derive curiousconsolation from the thought of its immensity, as a result ofwhich she so often felt soothed, and the greyness of heroutlook received a brighter edge.

But today not even the sea could do much to affect thathollow, lonely feeling inside her. It was a kind of spreadingloneliness, and it frightened her a little. Aunt Kate was gone— and not only was she gone from Treloan, she wasmarried! And marriage altered people! Marriage madeviolent demands and claims upon those who decided toforsake the state of single blessedness, and a husbandwhose digestive arrangements were not altogether up tostandard, and who was helpless about such matters aschoosing his own clothes and taking ordinary elementaryprecautions when he got his feet wet, would surely prove amore demanding one than most. Dr. Craig had hischarming side, as Aunt Kate must have discovered, butnow that he also had Aunt Kate how much time would shenow have to her niece? And a niece who did not even livein Twickenham, but had elected to bury herself in a far-offcorner of Cornwall!

Eve thought of their cosy evenings in the cottage and AuntKate’s unfailing good-humor, and the heartening something

about her which was like a bulwark to lean against. And sheeven thought of Sarah, waddling about the place in herover-fed manner, and she knew that she was going to missher, too, although for the present Sarah had been leftbehind, because she might have been a little awkward on ahoneymoon.

There was Chris, of course. Chris, too, was brisk andheartening, but she was not Aunt Kate. And although shehad consented to come and share the loneliness of thecottage with Eve, she would not make quite such a goodcompanion.

Suddenly Eve wished that she was on her way to London.She wished that she had never seen Cornwall, or Treloan.Her eyes fixed themselves upon that far corner of the baywhere the windows of the Stark Point Hotel shone in theevening light. She wished, above all things, that she hadnever met a man who called himself Roger Merlin, and whohad turned her life completely upside-down because hiseyes had the power to melt her bones, and even the mostacid tones of his voice beguiled her as the song of a sirenhad once beguiled the ancient mariners. He had laid somesort of a spell on her. And yet, why? When he was not eveninterested in her!

Where was he now, she wondered? Having such a nicetime in Switzerland with Annette that he couldn’t bear toleave it!

She drew a deep breath, and felt a tear of sheer self pityand loneliness roll down her cheek. And just as it did so,footsteps sounded on the path behind her, and a masculinevoice said, when its owner drew level with her:

“I thought I might find you here.” As she refused to turn, hebent his head a little and looked down at her, and

then offered her his handkerchief, which was crisp andimmaculate and of very fine linen. “Have this,” he said moregently.

“Thank you.” She snatched at the handkerchief and buriedher face in it. To her absolute horror the tears fell faster thanever, and not all the will-power she summoned to her aid tostem their rush did anything at all to abate them until heronce delicately powdered nose was red and shiny, and hereyelids looked as if she wore red-rimmed glasses.

She was so shocked at herself that she could only stammerout her concern:

“I never knew anyone so idiotic! I’m so s-sorry! . . .” “Well,don’t be,” Martin Pope said, in his nice, warm, comfortingmasculine tones. “Don’t be.”

“It must be the ch-champagne!” She endeavored to excuseherself. “I’m not really used to it, and it does have a maudlineffect on some people.”

“Well, it hasn’t ever had that effect upon me,” he replied,with a smile in his eyes, “and I don’t think it has upon you,either. I think you’re a little over-tired, and, perhaps,overwrought.”

She was not prepared to dispute this, and she allowed himto take her arm and lead her back along the cliff path untilthey came to a secluded seat in a comer of the garden. Itwas shut in by the high azalea hedges that had flamed inthe spring, but now they were merely green and cool, andthe scents from the near-by sunken rose-garden reachedthem. The shadows of late afternoon fell softly across them,and the distant murmur of the sea formed a background assoothing as a lullaby to the consoling little speech he madeto her.

“But I wouldn’t let anything so universally appreciated as awedding upset you,” he said. “Your aunt has taken pity onold Craig, and I’m sure they’re going to be happy. She isthe right type for him — she’ll bully him when he needs it,and fuss over him when he needs it, and they’ll provideeach other with a companionship they’re never had before.You know, it’s a lonely thing to remain single all your life.You’re much too young, and at present life offers you toomuch, to realize that; but it is so. That’s why it pleased me

so much to see those two taking each other for better orworse this morning. I like to think that in the future they’vegot something — each other! — to hold on to.”

Eve had scarcely devoted much time to thinking about themarriage from her aunt’s point of view, but now she couldsee quite clearly that he was right. Aunt Kate had a right tobe happy. She would be selfish indeed if she begrudgedher that happiness because it meant that in the future shemight see little of her.

“You’re right, of course,” she said. “But I knew that I’m goingto miss her dreadfully just the same.”

“Oh, well, of course, that’s natural. But supposing you’d gotmarried and left her alone?”

“I’m not in the least likely to get married.”

“Aren’t you?”

“No; I’m making Treloan my life partner,” with a curious littlemirthless smile playing about her lips.

He smiled at her sceptically.

“My dear child, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”Then he suddenly leaned towards her and took one of herhands. “But you can have Treloan, and a life partner at thesame time, if you’ll marry me! Will you, Eve? Or will you, atleast, think about it?”

She was taken by surprise, but, even so, she almost

instantly shook her head.

“I’m sorry. I really am sorry,” she said gently, “but I couldnever marry you.”

“Why not? Oh, I know I’m much older than you, and that sortof thing, but I can offer you so much. I can buy Treloan fromyou, and then settle it upon you as a wedding- present!There need never be any question of running it as an hotel.We could live here in a way that would suit you much betterthan trying to satisfy the whims of people like Mrs. NevilleWilmott, and when you were tired of this part of the worldwe could go to London — the Continent. Anywhere youfancied. And I’d devote my life to making you happy.”

“I’m sure you would,” she told him, with the same gentlenote in her voice. “But I couldn’t marry you, just the same.”

“You mean you couldn’t fall in love with me?”

“It’s not that.” She freed her hand from his hold, and twistedit with her other one together in her lap. ''It’s — oh, well ------”

You’re in love with someone else?”

For a moment she hesitated, and then she decided to bequite truthful.

“Yes,” she answered, “I’m in love with someone else!” He

gave a little sigh, which sounded rather ragged and as if ithad forced its way from the roots of his being.

“I was afraid of that,” he told her. “It’s been a kind of privatenightmare of mine; but now that you’ve admitted it. . .” Hesuddenly put his hand in his pocket and pulled out anenvelope addressed to himself, and placed it in her lap.“Since you’ve admitted it, that might interest you,” he said atrifle obscurely.

Eve looked faintly astonished, but she removed the halfsheet of notepaper from the envelope and read the fewlines of writing that were scrawled across it in bold,masculine hand.

“Dear Dad,” ran the very brief letter, “I know this is a goingto be a shock to you, but you’ve got to know all the same.Annette and I were married by special license this morninghere in London. She’s a wonderful girl, and you’ll think so,too, when you know her better. We’re trying to find a flat.Write and say you’re prepared to forgive us for springingthis on you. Your affectionate son, Laurence.

Eve could only think that there was something wrong withher eyesight.

“They’re married!” she exclaimed, almost foolishly. “Annette

— and your son, Laurence!”

“Yes; they’re married!” He smiled at her coolly. “She’s asmart little piece, isn’t she? But I’ll admit I thought she wasflying higher. In fact, I was almost certain of it.”

“So was I,” she assured him quickly. “I was certain of it!”

“And the only one who did not share our views, apparently,is the gentleman we’re both thinking about!” He saw howalmost painfully the color flooded her cheeks, and he wenton: “And he obviously, never shared them, or I should nothave suddenly acquired a daughter-in-law. For I know theAnnettes of this world — charming little things though theyare! — and marriage for love, and love alone, is not reallyvery much to their taste. But, of course, Laurence is notexactly poor, either. Or he'll be quite well off one day.”

But she could think of only one thing, and that was thatRoger, even though he had remained away for so long, andhad never once tried to contact her during that period, wasat least entirely safe in future from Annette Le Frere. Hewould never

marry Annette! She felt she could scarcely believe it.

“So that has interested you!” Martin Pope observed, andgave her hand another sudden little squeeze. “Well, I’m glad— but not for myself!’’

A mist seemed to be blowing in from the sea, and it wasfilling the garden with a kind of gossamer haze. It also

lowered the temperature considerably.

Martin Pope stood up.

“Come along in,” he said. “It’s turning quite chill, and youmight catch a cold if you sit there any longer.”

Obediently she rose to her feet and walked at his sidealong the paths. She could still only think of one thing, butshe felt that she had to review the matter from his angle aswell. After all, Laurence was his only son.

“You will forgive them, I expect, won’t you?” she suggesteda little diffidently. “After all, they’re very young, and ”

“Oh, I’ll forgive them,” he answered rather abruptly. “Therewouldn’t be much point in my doing anything else.”

When they reached the front of the house they found TomGeake’s car parked at the foot of the steps, and Mrs.Neville Wilmott, radiantly attired for the evening, about tostep into it. She directed a keen look at both their faces,and then said with elaborate casualness:

“Such a good thing I telephoned to book a table at the StarkPoint. Commander Merlin has returned, and he has invitedme to have dinner with him. Isn’t it pleasant to think that Ishall be hearing all his news?” She smiled almosttriumphantly at Eve. “Apparently his visit to Switzerland hasbeen most successful, and his new hotel is running

smoothly.”

As she stepped into the car, Tom Geake looked about himat the mist, traveling like the expelled breath of a giant allover the garden, and then he looked at Martin Pope.

“If this lot gets any thicker,” he said, “I shan't be bringing thelady back here tonight. I’ve got a kind of feeling you'regoing to be cut off up here.”

“Well, that won’t upset Mrs. Wilmott,” Martin Pope thoughtto himself a little cynically. “The beds at the Stark Point areeven more comfortable than up here!”

And then, as he followed Eve indoors, a new train ofthought started up in his mind.

C H A P T E R T W E N T Y - O N E

DINNER that night seemed a restrained meal, after theexcitements of the day and with the depletion in theirnumbers. Eve managed to persuade Chris to join her at hertable in the dining-room, and after dinner she handed roundcoffee in the drawing-room, because the mist was nowthick outside the windows and the terrace was simplyblotted out by it. It seemed a little uncanny, that silent wall ofclinging white vapor pressing in on them, and when themonotonous wail of a fog-siren lifted up its voice it wasalmost like the unnatural crying of human voices in the mist.

Mrs. Joseph Brownrigg laid out patience cards in a cornershe had adopted for her own in the drawing-room, and ayoung couple who were enjoying a late holiday becameengrossed with one another in another far corner of thegreat room. Ann Wilmott and her playwright discussed thelatest book reviews — and, of course, the newest plays —on a chesterfield which normally commanded a fine view ofthe terrace and the gardens; and Eve, when she ceaseddispensing the coffee, sat composing a brief letter to heraunt which might or might not reach her before she leftEngland, and in which all the good wishes that had been leftunsaid were expressed, and only the merest hint of self-pitycrept in when she mentioned that the house seemed veryempty, somehow, tonight without her, and that the fogoutside was the worst they had experienced since comingto Treloan.

Martin Pope had seemed unusually preoccupied duringdinner, and after dinner he wandered out into the hall and tothe glassed-in cabinet which contained the telephone. Hegot through to the Stark Point Hotel, and asked to be putthrough to Commander Merlin. When Commander Merlinanswered he sounded a little detached until it was madeclear to him who his caller was, and then he said rathersharply, with a note of interrogation in his voice:

“Yes? Can I do anything for you?”

“Not specially,” Pope answered, his North-country accent a

little more noticeable than usual. “But I’d like to have a talkwith you when you can spare the time. It’s a bit foggytonight, but if I can get over to you, will you be free?”

“I can be free all right,” Roger replied, after a moment ofhesitation, during which he either got over a certain amountof surprise or stopped to consider his engagements. “Butalthough it’s more or less clear on this side of the bay, youseem to be wrapped in mist. Do you think it’s wise to risktaking a car out? Won’t tomorrow do?”

“It will, of course,” Martin Pope admitted. “But I’d like to seeyou tonight if it’s at all possible. I’m not going to take anychances, naturally, but if this stuff lifts suddenly, or showssigns of thinning, I’ll be over.”

“All right,” Roger answered, and then replaced his receiver.Eve encountered Martin Pope on his way across the hallfrom the telephone box when she was on her way to thekitchen to speak to Chris.

“Are you going to the cottage?” he asked. “Because, if so,would you like me to see you safely there?”

“As a matter of fact,” she answered, “I haven't quite madeup my mind. Chris is busy, and its rather a beastly night. Idon’t altogether fancy the cottage on my own. I may decideto spend the night here, in my old room.” “Well, I think that’ssensible,” he agreed. He looked down at her, in her plain

dark evening gown, with her distinctive hair and her ratherwistful grey eyes, and an expression that was almostpaternal crept into his eyes. He patted her gently on theshoulder. “Stay here,” he advised. “It’s early days to startcooping yourself up in the cottage after your aunt’sdeparture. I may be going out for a short while, but when Icome back we’ll have another little talk. You mustn’t be leftto brood.”

Eve stared after him a little curiously as he went on his wayacross the hall, and she wondered as she saw himdisappear through the front door. Surely he wasn't going outon such an inclement evening as this?”

Outside with the eerie feel of the fog on his face, MartinPope made his way to the garage. It was a nuisance, thismist, but it was decidedly patchy, and in parts it was almostclear. When the lights of his car shone across the drive hecould see quite clearly where he was going, even thoughthe fog-sirens out in the bay continued to wail fitfully everyfew seconds, like lost souls.

It was a lonely coast, this Cornish coast, and on such anight as this there was something about it which gave onepause. Scattered with prehistoric remains, lonely, cut off—invaded by tourists for only a very few weeks in the year

— and with the sea surging tirelessly somewhere out therebeyond that blanket of mist, even Martin Pope, hard-

headed business-man and dour North-country man, wouldhave been glad of a companion on this rather recklessdrive — or, at least, someone to shatter the silence whichenveloped him in his car. It pressed upon him as he went ata slow and infinitely cautious pace down the drive, thankfulfor his powerful headlights, and aware at the same time thathe was being a little bit foolish, tempting providence,perhaps.

But, on the other hand, providence didn't seem to havemuch to offer him, so ... !

It was always his way to getsomething over and done withwhen he had once made up his mind to do it. And hewanted to talk to Roger Merlin, study the fellow in his ownhome, try to form some conclusive opinion of him, andwithout involving Eve

— and certainly without mentioning her name! — try toglean some idea at least of the value which might be set onthe man's preferences. Whether he preferred a life whichhad no ties and was free from even the thought ofdomesticity, or whether such a superficial charmer as Mrs.Neville Wilmott could ever make any serious impressionupon him, now that that odd little affair with Annette LeFrere was over. Martin Pope had never quite liked the ideaof the French girl so openly chasing a man who was somany years older than herself, and whose mental outlookwas certainly far above the level of her own. And yet she

must have been encouraged! Or hadn't she needed anyencouragement?

And he wanted to find out just where, and how, Eve enteredinto the picture.

Confound it, he thought, as he came out on to the cliff top.The fog wasthick, and it seemed to be drifting towards him,like a myriad derisive demons trailing filmy draperies. Hiscar slowed almost to a crawl and he could scarcely see theroad, but he knew where the grass verge began.

The sensible thing, of course, would be to turn back, he toldhimself; but that wouldn’t be so easy now that he was out onthe exposed cliff. So he went on, trusting to luck and hisguiding star to enable him to make progress, and after ahundred or so yards the mist thinned again, and he wasable to shoot forward at an increased speed. But thesudden realization that he was free to step on theaccelerator had the effect of diminishing his caution a little,and he made no allowances for a car approaching himfrom the opposite direction with its lights dimmed by thechancy

white vapor, and as that car was approaching with rathermore recklessness than his own, disaster was inevitable.

Martin jammed on his brakes, and they screeched in hisears as the realization smote him that it was too late and

the other car was already on top of him. He wrenched at hiswheel, but whether it obeyed him or not he never properlyknew, for the next thing he did know was that the oncomingvehicle seemed to be tearing right through his windscreen,and following a series of bumps which must surely haveforced his spine through the top of his head he wassomersaulted out through the windows of what remained ofhis car, and he found himself lying prone on the wet grassof the cliff-top.

But he was still alive. He was even conscious and aware ofwhat had happened. He crawled a little way over the grass,and in the light of one headlamp which belonged to his car,and which was still burning crazily, he could make out thewreckage of the other car, more battered than thewreckage of his own, but still vaguely familiar as a car hehad seen more than once in a state of trim and gleamingperfection. A powerful, expensive, cream-colored car.

He managed to get to his feet and staggered over to it.Ironically enough there was practically no mist where theaccident had taken place, and he could see what he wasdoing. He bent over and felt gropingly for the form of thedriver, in the space behind the wheel, and as the car wason its side the driver was also lolling sideways, and he waspinned by the wheel into the seat in which he remainedmotionless. Martin Pope felt an icy chill of horror strikethrough him as he touched the sleek, dark head, and hisfingers came away wet. . .

C H A P T E R T W E N T Y - TWO

EVE did not change her mind about spending the night inTreloan. Somehow the absence of her aunt, combined withthe collapse of the weather, made her curiously loath evento think about returning to the cottage, and at ten o’clock,since Martin Pope did not return for the further conversationhe had said he would like to have with her, she went up toher old room to bed.

Before actually undressing, she looked out at the night.Although the mist was much thinner now, the prospectwithout made her shiver somehow, and she was glad todraw the curtains

and switch on all the lights.

This room she was occupying was one of the pleasantest inthe house, and it made her think of those early days whenshe and Aunt Kate had first come to Treloan, and of all thelittle hopes and schemes they had formed over pots of teain the evenings, whilst sitting beside the fire in theirdressing-gowns. But Aunt Kate was gone now, and thehopes and schemes might or might not come to fruition.She hardly knew if she cared whether they did or not. Butshe did know that she was tired, even exhausted, after theemotional demands of the day, and she was glad to crawlinto bed after a hot bath, with a book over which her eyelidsvery quickly drooped. She did not even know when she fell

asleep, with her light still burning, and she certainly heardnone of the unaccustomed noises which reawakenedTreloan to activity at an hour when it was customarily fallinginto a pleasant, lethargic doze.

Noises of lights switching on all along the corridors, andfootsteps hastening rapidly to and fro. Of doors opening;and shutting with a kind of sinister care to preserve thesilence, and voices also low-pitched but anxious. ChrisCarpenter once gently opened Eve’s door, but when shesaw that the other girl was asleep she turned out the lampand went away again. And Martin Pope — looking quiteunlike the Martin Pope Eve knew — grey-faced andhaggard, and with large portions of sticking-plasteradhering to one side of his face and his head, applaudedthe decision to let Eve sleep peacefully, if possible, untilmorning, while he drank cup after cup of strong sweetenedcoffee in Chris’s little sitting-room, and they waited for newsfrom a far corner of the house.

In the morning, although the weather was bright and fineagain, without even a suspicion of mist, Eve wakened withthe feeling that everything was not as it should be. She haddreamed strange, wild dreams which alarmed her even inher sleep, and the remembrance of them pursuing her intoher early waking moments coincided with the opening ofher door and the appearance of Chris with a tray of earlymorning tea.

Eve sat up in bed and looked at her. Chris was smiling, ortrying to smile, but somehow it was not natural. And in anycase it was not Chris’s normal function to bring her earlymorning tea..

“You look as if you've been up ages,” Eve said, regardingher friend. “And yet it isn’t seven o’clock yet. Couldn’t yousleep?”

“I didn’t sleep very well,” Chris admitted, and poured her outa

cup of tea and handed it to her. “Drink this,” she said.

Eve obeyed her, but when she was half-way through the cupsudden suspicion assailed her.

“There’s something wrong, isn’t there?” she asked. “Isn'tthere?”

Her heart misgave her. “It’s not — not Aunt Rate?”

“No, no. There’s nothing wrong with Miss Barton —or Mrs.Craig, I should say. There isn’t even a letter from her thismorning, but then, of course, there hasn’t been time.” “Thenwhat is it?” Eve insisted. “There is something?” “Yes; I’mafraid there is.” Chris sat down on the side of her bed.“There was a nasty accident last night. Mr. Pope wasinvolved in it. He — his car came into collision with anothercar.”

“Oh!” Eve exclaimed, and automatically clasped both handsabove her heart. “But he’s all right?” she asked. “He

— he wasn’t seriously hurt?”

“No, he wasn’t seriously hurt,” Chris admitted. “Though Imust say I can’t think how he managed to be so lucky. Itwas an appalling smash, and in that horrible fog last night.And so near to the edge of the cliff!” She shuddered, whileEve slid out of bed and began scrambling into herdressing-gown.

“But somebody else was hurt — badly! That’s what you’retrying to tell me, isn’t it?” Eve asked. “And there’s no pointin trying to spare my feelings, Chris. I’ve got to know. Was itone of our guests?”

Chris hesitated. More than once she had suspected thatEve was in some curious way attracted to CommanderMerlin. They were such striking opposites, the one so darkand the other so brilliantly fair. And although Eve had oftenprofessed dislike for the Commander, more recently it wasa dislike which seemed to have evaporated. And last night,while he was drinking coffee in her room, Mr. Pope had toldher what he had long suspected and had had confirmedonly yesterday. Eve was more than attracted to the owner ofthe rival establishment along the coast. She was nursingsomething in her breast which, because she had red hair,and never felt or did anything by halves, was going to grow

stronger even without any encouragement whatsoever, andwould make of her life a daily torment if it was to remain theunsatisfied and unattainable hope which was all that itlooked to be at present. And therefore Chris hesitated. Shelooked at Eve’s pale, blanched mask of a face and herwide betraying eyes, and for a moment she could notspeak. She could only think: “Poor old Eve! Oh, why did ithave to be like this? Why?”

Then, at last, she said:

“No; it isn’t one of our guests, Eve.”

“Then, who ... ?” Eve hugged the dressing-gown round her,and felt herself go quite cold inside. “Who ... ” she askedagain.

She thought of all the people she knew in Treloan, and theywere not very many; it was only a tiny place. She suddenlyremembered Mrs. Neville Wilmott meeting them blithely onthe steps of the terrace the previous evening andannouncing that she was dining with Commander Merlin.Commander Merlin was home!

She caught hold of the bed-post because she felt that sheneeded support.

“I'm afraid it was Commander Merlin” Chris said gently. “Hewas on his way here for some reason which we don’t knowyet, and — and his car had a head-on

yet, and — and his car had a head-on

crash with Mr. Pope’s! He’s unconscious, of course-----------”

“Then he’s not dead!” Eve’s utterly bloodless lips seemedto mouth the words.

“No, of course he’s not dead!” But Chris could give her nogreater consolation than that. “The full extent of his injurieswe don’t know yet, but it was a ghastly smash!” She caughtEve by the arm, partly to steady her and partly because shewished to impart some of her own quiet strength andcomposure, and to stop Eve looking like death itself.“Listen, my dear, we’re short-handed here, and althoughthere’s a nurse on her way from Falmouth she hasn’tarrived yet, and I’ve had to leave one of the maids sittingwith him. He doesn’t know anyone, of course, but he mustbe watched, constantly! Dr. Gresham left explicitinstructions. Will you take over now while I see about thebreakfasts, or would you prefer to have some breakfastyourself first?”

“I couldn’t eat any breakfast,” Eve answered, her wholebeing revolted by the thought of food, and she reached forher clothes and began to drag them on mechanically.

“I didn’t really think you’d want any,” Chris told hercomposedly. “But, all the same, you’d better have somecoffee. I’ll send some along to you.”

“Where is he?” Eve asked, Wishing she could stop thisdreadful shaking which interfered with her hurried attemptto don her clothes, and at the same time aware that shewas speaking like an automaton. “Which room did you puthim in?”

“Miss Barton’s old room,” Chris answered. “It’s one of thepleasantest and the largest, and the bed was already madeup.”

“Yes, yes!” Eve said, cutting her short. She dragged acomb through her hair, but ignored her make-up aids. “ThenI’d better not waste any time. The maid might not know whatto do if he should suddenly regain consciousness.”

But as she walked along the endless miles of corridors, asthey seemed to her this morning, on her way to Miss

Barton’s old room, with Chris watching her from the end ofone of the corridors, she wondered how she was evergoing to summon up the strength to enter that quiet roomwhere he was lying, and where perhaps he would look soutterly different.

She couldn't visualize Roger Merlin, whom she had lastseen tall, virile, smiling, full of a kind of purposeful strength,standing at the gate of the cottage after he had brought herhome following the one really enchanting evening they hadspent together, lying without even a movement, or

probabably any sign to show that he was still breathing, inone of the great four-poster beds of Treloan in the housewhich he had once longed to possess himself. She couldn’t— she couldn’t!

But when she opened the door of the room it all seemed sostill and calm and ordinary that for a single instant her fearsevaporated. The sunlight was shining down on the balconyoutside the window — the wide, pleasant balcony,overlooking the sea, with its adjustable, comfortable chairs,and its little table to support a tray of refreshments. The seaitself was wind-ruffled, but as blue as aquamarine, and thestrong light from it was reflected on the ceiling, with itsgraceful garlands, and its bunches of fruit and flowers afterthe favorite pattern of the Adam brothers. And the bed, withits highly polished, graceful columns supporting the curtainsof rather faded brocade, of a dull rose color, the bed caughther eye immediately and it’s immaculate, lavender-scentedlinen sheets and the pillow-cases encasing the fine, fatpillows looked almost startlingly white.

The girl from the village who was keeping watch there roseup with a frightened look on her face, which was followed bya quick look of relief when she realized that Eve had cometo take her place. She put her finger to her lips.

“He hasn’t stirred,” she whispered when Eve stood besideher. She obviously had the fear that the slightest noisewould precipitate a crisis. “It’s downright uncanny watching

him lie there, never making even the slightest movement.”

Eve waved her away without uttering a word. She heard theclick of the door as the girl crept thankfully away, and thenshe herself approached the bed and stood looking down onthe dark head swathed in bandages, and felt a rush ofwholehearted thankfulness because otherwise he lookedso little different. He was not even as pale as she hadimagined he would look, but that was probably his tan —reinforced by several weeks spent recently in Switzerland.And the scar, of course, was still there, running from onecorner of his mouth upwards to a corner of his darkeyebrow. Eve felt she would like to put out a fiinger andtrace the line of it, very, very gently.

One of his hands lay outside on the sheet. That, too, wasbrown, and it was well formed, with sensitive finger-tips andsquare, well-kept nails. His wrist-watch, apparentlyunaffected by the crash, still encircled his wrist, and tickedaway softly in the silent room.

Eve knelt down beside the bed. There was no one to seeher, and she laid her cheek for a moment against the limphand, hearing the thunder of her own heart as she did so.

Several moments later she looked up. He had not moved,but there was a kind of quivering movement of one of hiseyelids, and while she literally held her breath his longeyelids lifted — they had always struck her as almost

feminine eyelashes, the only feminine thing about him —and she caught the gleam of his blue eyes watching her.

“Hello,” he said, in quite an ordinary tone of voice, that wasnot even particularly weak. “Hello. . . The blue eyes smiled.“I've been away up in the clouds dreaming about that brighthair of yours. There's such a lot of it, and I like the way itcurls. It's wonderful hair, Eve!”

His voice died away, and his eyelids drooped again overhis eyes. He gave a kind of sigh, and then seemed to besleeping. Eve could tell that he was sleeping, because hischest was rising and falling rhythmically. She experiencedan almost agonized sensation of relief. He was sleepingand he had called her Eve!

C H A P T E R T W E N T Y - T H R E E

BUT for the next week she had small cause for rejoicing,because his life still hung by quite a slender thread, and herequired almost constant watching. The nurse arrived —immaculate and efficient — and took her place beside himin the day-time, and at night she was relieved by anothernurse, just as efficient, who carried out the same dutythrough the long night watches.

But there were moments when Eve was allowed to standfor a few moments beside the bed, and even to sit therewhile the nurse enjoyed a cup of tea or went away for her

lunch. On these occasions Eve kept a book in her lap, buther eyes remained glued to the now very familiar face onthe pillow. Sometimes she thought that he knew she wasthere, and that when his eyes opened and stared at herwilth that bright, hard stare which was so very different tothe completely rational, and extraordinarily gentle, look hehad given her when he first recovered consciousness, hewas studying her and assessing points about her which hadescaped him before. But that was only her own impression.The nurse would have said he was not even aware she wasin the room.

One thing she had found out from Mrs. Neville Wilmott. Onthe night of the accident the widow had dined with him atthe Stark Point, as the result of an invitation he had issuedto her. And it might have been that the shock of such acatastrophe as that which had overtaken her host of thatevening had in some way sobered, and no doubt alarmed,Mrs. Wilmott. In any case, she suddenly becameextraordinarily truthful, and to Eve she confessed that shehad been a little surprised when Roger had asked her todine with him so soon after his return from Switzerland,because, for one thing, he was not the type who was freewith such invitations to feminine friends, however charminghe knew how to be to them on occasion. He was the kind ofman who preferred lady friends to be treated to a form ofpoliteness which included provoking them a little with hissmiles, and his humor, and his sometimes quite old-fashioned courtesy, but permitted them no glimpses at all of

his inner life, gave them no opportunity to overstep thebounds of ordinary common friendliness.

To quote Mrs. Neville Wilmott, she had made up her mindlong ago, even when they were together in Hong- Kong, thathe was cut out for a bachelor, and had since become quitecase-hardened.

But on the night of his return from Switzerland he hadwanted to know what had been going on in Treloan duringhis absence, and when she had referred to the wedding,meaning Miss Barton’s and Dr. Craig’s wedding, she hadreceived the impression that for some reason he hadreceived a shock, until she made it clear to him that shewas referring to Miss Barton, and not Miss Barton’s niece.Then he had relaxed so suddenly that she had observed, toher astonishment, that the hand which was holding hiscigarette was actually shaking a little. And then when,because it had afforded her some secret satisfaction, shehad told him that so far as Eve and Martin Pope wereconcerned she was sure that the mistress of Treloan hadhanded Martin his conge in the garden that very afternoon,and that he had looked very downcast as a result, she hadbeen much more surprised at the effect of her words. Forwhereas she had merely been meaning to entertain him,from that moment he had appeared like a man who hadheard all at once some extra-ordinarily good news which hehad never expected to hear, and as soon as he decentlycould had shaken her off with as much politeness as he

could muster and announced that he had some pressingbusiness outside the hotel that evening, and rushed off andgot out his car.

Even then the fog was creeping out to the Stark Point, andhe had advised Martin Pope that it was a risky thing to takeout a car in such weather. But Roger had taken out his own,and Mrs. Neville Wilmott was probably the only person whohad watched him go forth into that chancy and perilouswhite mist. And when she heard of the accident it weighedupon her because she had done nothing to stop him.

And yet what could she have done to stop him? She, whohad no influence with him whatsoever!

But sitting in the silent bedroom beside the high four-poster bed on which the man who meant more than her lifeto her was fighting for the chance to continue his own life,Eve hugged the thought to her bosom that he had been onhis way to see her when he had run into Martin Pope. Herown denials where Martin was concerned—perhaps not asconvincing as they might have been because she hadalways had the fear that he was mocking her — had carriedlittle weight. But when Mrs. Neville Wilmott, after meetingthem both when she was setting out for her evening at theStark Point, had presented him with her opinion — then hehad reacted immediately! He had rushed and got out hiscar and, fog or no fog, had set out for Treloan. Only to havehis purpose interfered with once more by Martin, who had

come within an ace of losing his own life, and went aboutsince the accident as if oppressed by a burden, because,but for him . . . !

But for him and his attempts to put things right for Evethings might have been right for her. And now! . . .

“When all this is over, and I know the way things are goingwith — him,” he said to her once, heavily, when they met inthe garden, “I think I'll remove myself from this corner of theworld, and perhaps I'll remove a blight from your life. Ihaven't done very much for you, have I? And yet I wanted todo so much!”

“You've been wonderful!” she assured him, her voiceshaking a little because she liked him so much, and seeinghim so depressed and abject hurt her keenly. “It wasn't yourfault that the accident took place. You might have beenbadly hurt yourself.”

“But that wouldn't have mattered so much: he’d escaped,”he said, without the faintest note of bitterness or self-pity inhis voice. “For, after all, I've had my life, and he's only stillquite young. And you're young, too!” “Sometimes,” Eveadmitted, “sometimes, lately, I don’t feel so young!”

But when she received a note from Aunt Kate informing herthat she and Dr. Craig were cutting short their honeymoonand coming home to be with her, she felt a little better. With

Aunt Kate beside her she would lose something, at least, ofthis frightened feeling of utter desolation and dread of whatmight lie ahead. Aunt Kate was such a bulwark to leanagainst, and she would give her courage.

But courage came to her before Aunt Kate returned fromItaly; courage and a slow, bewildered feeling of having alife-line thrown to her when she was in imminent danger ofdrowning and coming up for the third time. And althoughshe was too shaken by her experiences to realize fully thatthe worst of them were over, it was something to have thekeenest part of the anxiety behind her, at least. For Rogerbegan slowly to improve. He ceased fighting for his life, andtook a more tenacious hold on the life he had already won.He began to realize he was inside Treloan.

One afternoon when Eve was sitting beside him, a booklying neglected in her lap while she stared for a moment outof the window, she was startled by the sound of his voiceaddressing her from the pillows:

“Are you supposed to be reading or are you merelydaydreaming?” he asked.

Eve made such a convulsive movement that the book slidfrom her lap, and she turned to him with her eyes likehaunted and unbelieving pools of infinitely soft grevness.

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “Oh! You're better?”

“Well, you might call it that,” he said, with a little wry twist tohis lips, “but there have been moments in my life when Ihave felt better still! Considerably better, shall we say, andrather more in one piece?”

“Oh, but — you know what I mean.” The color that hadsimply flown into her cheeks receded from them, leavingher pale and tremulous. She wanted to go down on herknees beside the bed and reach out her arms and gatherhim into them. She wanted at least to touch him, to be surehe was alive, and actually talking to her, after days anddays of sinister silence which had kept her wakeful throughso many nights when the dawn light had seemed so far off,and the nurse had sat here beside his bed. And now as helay and watched her from his nest of pillows and sawsomething suddenly glittering on the edge of one of hereyelids begin to-spill over and run down her cheeks, theexpression in his brilliant blue eyes made her heart turn asomersault. A wild, violent somersault, for there was nomisreading that expression.

“Why, you’re crying!” he said simply, and put out his fingerand gently touched the cheek down which the teardroprolled like a crystal ball.

Eve made a valiant attempt to prevent a second evidenceof weakness following the first, but it was no good. Thesecond tear landed on the back of his hand, and heexamined it as if it afforded him a tremendous amount ofinterest. Then he looked up at her again and caressed herwith his look.

“Eve,” he said, “can’t you come just a little nearer? Near

enough for me to get an arm about you?”

“But—but, you’re ill!” she got out with a kind of gulp. “Oh,Roger— I mustn’t excite you!”

“You’ll excite me if I have to reach out and grab you,” he toldher, and his voice sounded so firm and determined,although it was certainly very much fainter than his normalvoice, that she ceased arguing and dropped on her kneesbeside the bed. Her eyes, transformed by tenderness, werea bare few inches from his own, and he could see how herred mouth quivered and her fingers locked themselveswithin his own.

“Eve,” he murmured contentedly, drowsily, while her headrested against his shoulder, and he could inhale thefragrance of her hair, “I’ve a feeling I’m going off to sleepagain, but before I do I want to tell you something. I was onmy way to see you that night when something happened

— I don’t know quite what it was! And if you won’t marryme, Eve, I’ll refuse to get better! I love you, Eve—darling!”

And then she saw that he was asleep once more, but therewas almost a little smile on his lips, and when the nursereturned and looked at her patient she expressedconsiderable approval.

“He’s better,” she said. “Much better! I think we can safelysay he’s turned the corner!”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

IT was October, and a gale was raging along the coast. Butinside the study at Treloan Eve knelt to build up the fire inthe white fireplace, and as the velvet curtains were alreadydrawn across the windows, the arm-chairs drawn up to thefire, and the mellow illumination switched on, theatmosphere of cosiness was merely emphasized by thetumult of wind and rain, and the angry roaring of the sea,without.

Eve wore a new dress of sea-green lace over an underskirtof taffeta which caused it to stand out like a very widecrinoline, and the last deep-scented red rose from thegarden was tucked in the front of the off-the-shoulderneckline. She had obviously taken the greatest pains, withher hair, and even her finger-nails shone delicately with afresh coat of nail varnish. But these things were nothingbeside the glow of absolute happiness in her eyes, and thehappy, upward curve to her lips. When she had finishedmaking up the fire she re-read again the confirmation of atelegram which had arrived from Aunt Kate, announcingthat she and her husband hoped to arrive the following day.Poor Aunt Kate had succumbed to a most unpleasant andvirulent influenza germ in Italy, and for that reason, and thatalone, her return to Treloan had been postponed.

Eve was glowing with contentment for another reason also,

and when the door opened suddenly and a man stoodthere, watching her for a moment, the contentment changedto a kind of riotous excitement which caused her asomewhat breathless sensation as if her heart had startedto hammer itself against her ribs.

Roger Merlin was wearing a dinner-jacket for the first timefor weeks, and he was conscious of the fact that it fitted hima little loosely, although otherwise his appearance was notgreatly altered. The one-sided twist to the lips was there,and the hint of a derisive sparkle in his eyes as he took inthe picture of Eve, in the sea-green dress, standingbeneath the portrait of her ancestress, and almost outdoingher in sheer spectacular appeal.

For, if anything, Eve’s hair was a little more fiery than that ofthe lady in the portrait, and her lips were brilliantly red andparted with excitement, and there was a flush of excitementin her cheeks.

“Oh, Roger!” she exclaimed. “I didn't mean you to walkdownstairs by yourself! You might have felt a little giddy.”

“I might,” he agreed, “but I didn't. But then, I’ve had nothingto drink since lunch-time, so I'm strictly sober.”

He advanced into the middle of the room, walking ratherslowly, and she went to meet him, her dress a whirl of sea-green lace, and her delicate perfume going ahead of her.

When they came face to face with one another he pausedand looked at her, and then all the derision went out of hiseyes. He opened his arms, and she went into them withbadly concealed eargerness, and laid her smooth cheeksagainst the lapel of his dinner-jacket.

“Oh, Roger!” she exclaimed. “Oh, Roger!”

“You shouldn’t keep an invalid standing,” he reminded her,with a laugh in his voice, and she became conscience-stricken and drew him over to one of the deep arm-chairs.When he was seated, with cigarettes on a little table at hiselbow, and a glass of sherry which she poured out for himherself, she showed him Aunt Kate’s telegram, and hesmiled a little.

“Trust Aunt Kate to come up to scratch!” he said. “I’ll betshe’s pestered the life out of poor old Craig in an attempt toget him to cure her of that influenza. Even a husband is apoor thing when it comes to her dear niece Eve!” His eyestwinkled a little as he lighted a cigarette. “Do you think I'llhave to try to charm her as I so successfully charmed you?”

“As a matter of fact,” Eve confessed, “I believe Aunt Katealways had a weak spot for you, even in the beginning!”

“Well, that’s something,” he murmured.

She seated herself on the arm of his chair, and he lookedup at her and, taking one of her hands, examined the

slender fingers.

“Eve,” he said, “there are three matters I want to deal withbefore we go in to dinner; two things I want to ask you, andone I wish to do!”

“Yes?” she said, and looked at him wonderingly.

“Go and sit in that chair facing me, so that I can keep aclear head.”

His smile softened the request, but she went obediently andsat down, clasping her hands about her knees and leaninga little towards him. He lay back in his chair and let hisglance stray round the room, where they had once satbefore under different circumstances. And on thatoccasion, instead of a gale raging outside, the summermoonlight had been flooding the garden, and the frenchwindow had stood wide to admit all the intoxicating flowerscents.

“Do you remember,” he asked her, “what we said about thisroom, once? We decided it was the nicest room in thehouse, and I said that if I ever owned this house, and wasrunning it as an hotel, I would never allow anyone in here.” “Iremember,” she said softly, wondering what else wascoming.

He looked across at her.

“Eve, what do you want to do with Treloan? It’s yours, and italways will be yours, but if you like we can live in it after weare married—instead of running it as an hotel, I mean. But ifwe do decide to go on running it as an hotel—and I’m quitesure it has distinct possibilities— we can still keep thisroom.”

“You once said,” she reminded him shyly, “that you wouldlike to live in the cottage.”

“So I would!” he replied immediately. “I’d much prefer it toliving anywhere else.”

“Then that’s what I also would prefer.”

“You mean that?” looking at her keenly. “You’re not justsaying it because you think I’ve been starved of a simplehome atmosphere?”

She shook her head.

“No; I mean it.”

“Good!” he exclaimed, and gave her a rewarding smile.“Then that settles question number one! Question numbertwo is more simple.” He paused a moment, and then helooked across at her again. “Will you marry me, Eve, verysoon? Within a few weeks, I mean—or days, if you’dconsent to it!—without waiting for all the fuss of a whitewedding, and that sort of thing? I don’t think I could stand up

to the ordeal of bridesmaids and speeches, and all the restof it, just yet—but I don’t want to have to wait for you, Eve!”

There was something faintly imploring in his look, but evenwithout it she could have answered him immediately andwith all the joy in the world.

“Of course, Roger—oh, of course!” She wanted to hurryacross to him and kneel at his feet, and let him see by herexpression that any moment he wanted to marry her shewas willing to be his. White weddings, bridesmaids, and soforth meant nothing at all compared with the wonder ofbecoming his wife. Just a wedding as Aunt Kate had hadwas all she wanted. “Of course” she repeated, but he putout a hand to stay her a moment.

“Just a moment, darling.”

He got rather slowly to his feet, and he went across to her.He put out his hands and drew her to her own feet.

“One thing I want to do to wipe out the memory ofsomething else I did in this room!”

Gently his hands cupped her face, and he looked long andtenderly into her clear eyes. He bent his head and kissedher, lingeringly, on the lips.

Eve’s face was suffused with happiness when he drewaway. She clung to him.

“Oh, Roger, darling—and I once made up my mind that youwere in love with Annette! I think there was a time when Ialmost hated her!” “Poor Annette!” he exclaimed, with hisold, faintly whimsical smile. “And you never had the slightestreason to hate her, because I’m still as fond of her as I everwas. Her people saved my life for me during the war, and Ipromised them that I would always keep an eye on her—or, at least, until she married. She’s married now, so youwon’t have to do very much worrying in the future.”

“If I’d known, of course,” Eve excused herself, “I wouldn’thave felt as I did about her.”

“If I’d known you were never likely to say ‘Yes’ to MartinPope, I might have liked him a little more, too,” heanswered. “Do you realize that I’ve been in love with yousince the first night I saw you?”

“Even when you were so rude to me?”

“Probably that’s why I was so rude to you!”

“Oh,” she said, with a faint sigh in the words, “I think I musthave loved you, too—all the time!”

“And you were never once attracted to Pope?”

“No,” with emphasis. “I liked him, and admired him, and Istill do, and I hope that one day ”

“What about one day?”

“Well, Mrs. Neville Wilmott would suit him much better that Iever would, and she seems to have sobered downalarmingly since your accident. She’s even stopped talkingabout going to Italy for the winter. And perhaps, in time, hemight begin to see the improvement himself.” “Well, let’shope he will,” he exclaimed a trifle impatiently, and caughther into his arms again with something of his oldarrogance. “But in the meantime you can stop thinkingabout him, and think only of the day when you will becomeMrs. Roger Merlin.”

He bent his head once more, and this time his kiss bruisedher lips a little. But she slid her white arms up and aroundhis neck, and left him with no doubt as to her willingness toobey him in that respect.