last. "I pictured you at Westminster, in committee rooms and all sorts
of places. Aren't you forging weapons to drive us from our homes and
portion out our savings?"

"I have left the thunderbolts alone for one short week-end," he
answered. "I felt a hunger for this moorland air. London becomes so
enveloping." Jane sat upright upon her horse and looked at him with a
mocking smile. "How ungallant! I hoped you had come to atone for your
neglect."

"Have I neglected you?" he asked quietly, turning and walking by her
side.

"Shockingly! You lunched with me on the seventh of August. I see you
again on the second of November, and I do believe that I shall have to
save you from starvation again."

"It's quite true," he admitted. "I have a sandwich in my pocket,
though, in case you were away from home."

"Worse than ever," she sighed. "You didn't even trouble to make
enquiries."

"From whom should I? Robert--my servant--his wife, and a boy to help in
the garden are all my present staff at the Manor. Robert drives the car
and waits on me, and his wife cooks. They are estimable people, but I
don't think they are up in local news."

"You were quite safe," she said, looking ahead of her. "I am never
away." The tail end of a scat of rain beat on their faces. From the