"I? Oh"--nervously--"I don't think I want to sing this evening."

"Why not? Have the"--he made an infinitesimal pause, regarding her the
while with quizzical eyes--"events of the afternoon robbed you of your
voice?"

Diana gave him back his look defiantly. How dared he--oh, how dared
he?--she thought indignantly.

"My adventures weren't serious enough for that," she replied composedly.

The ghost of a smile flickered across his face.

"Then you will sing?" he persisted.

"Yes, if you like."

He nodded contentedly, and as they went in to dinner he whispered:--

"I found the adventure--rather serious."

Dinner passed pleasantly enough. Errington and Stair contributed most of
the conversation, the former proving himself a charming guest, and it was
evident that the two men had taken a great liking to each other. It
would have been a difficult subject indeed who did not feel attracted by
Alan Stair; he was so unconventionally frank and sincere, brimming over
with humour, and he regarded every man as his friend until he had proved
him otherwise--and even then he was disposed to think that the fault must
lie somewhere in himself.