His earnestness was irresistible.

I whistled to Nobby--who had seized the opportunity of straying,
apparently by accident, towards a bull-terrier--and started to stroll in
the direction of The Row. Jill walked beside me, twittering, and a
glance over my shoulder showed me my sister and Berry a horse's length
behind. Behind them, again, came the Assistant Commissioner.

We crossed the road and entered the walk he had mentioned.

It was a beautiful day. The great sun flamed out of a perfect sky, and
there was little or no wind. With the exception of a riding-master and
two little girls The Row was empty, but the walk was as crowded as a
comfortably filled ball-room, if you except the dancers who are sitting
out; for, while three could walk abreast with small inconvenience either
to others or themselves, there was hardly a seat to spare.

I have seen smarter parades. It was clear that many _habitués_ had
already left Town, and that a number of visitors had already arrived.
But there was apparent the same quiet air of gaiety, the same good
humour which fine feathers bring, and, truth to tell, less _ennui_ and
more undisguised enjoyment than I can ever remember.

Idly I talked with Jill, not thinking what I said nor noticing what she
answered, but my heart was pounding against my ribs, and I was glancing
incessantly from side to side in a fever of fear lest I should miss the
obvious.

Now and again I threw a look over my shoulder. Always Berry and Daphne