silence the three little Trysts gazed, till Biddy with the tip of one
wet finger touched the bee.

"Not good to eat, Biddy."

At those words, one after the other, cautiously, the three little Trysts
smiled. Finding that Tod smiled too, they broadened, and Billy burst
into chuckles. Then, clustering in the doorway, grasping the edibles and
the sixpence, and consulting with each other, they looked long after his
big figure passing down the road.


CHAPTER XII


Still later, that same morning, Derek and Sheila moved slowly up the
Mallorings' well-swept drive. Their lips were set, as though they had
spoken the last word before battle, and an old cock pheasant, running
into the bushes close by, rose with a whir and skimmed out toward his
covert, scared, perhaps, by something uncompromising in the footsteps of
those two.

Only when actually under the shelter of the porch, which some folk
thought enhanced the old Greek-temple effect of the Mallorings' house,
Derek broke through that taciturnity:

"What if they won't?"

"Wait and see; and don't lose your head, Derek." The man who stood
there when the door opened was tall, grave, wore his hair in powder, and