"There's a house for sale in Great Beeding. I think that you would like it."
Stella's face softened with a smile.
"Anywhere, Dick," she said, "anywhere on earth."
"But here best of all," he answered. "Not to run away—that's our policy. We'll make our home in our own south country. I arranged to take you over the house between half-past five and six this evening."
They walked across to Little Beeding and were made welcome by Mr. Hazlewood. He came out to meet them in the garden and nervousness made him kittenish and arch.
"How are you, Stella?" he inquired. "But there's no need to ask. You look charming and upon my word you grow younger every day. What a pretty hat! Yes, yes! Will you make tea while I telephone to the Pettifers? They seem to be late."
He skipped off with an alacrity which was rather ridiculous. But Stella watched him go without any amusement.
"I am taken again into favour," she said doubtfully.
"That shouldn't distress you, Stella," replied Dick.
"Yet it does, for I ask myself why. And I don't understand this tea-party. Mr. Hazlewood was so urgent that I should not forget it. Perhaps, however, I am inventing trouble."