"Yes." He laughed. "I hide it under a superior air, of course."

"Yes, of course," she sympathised. "That's what I do always."

"It is useful," he agreed.

"People may think you disagreeable, but at least you're dignified. You have chosen your fault well, I really cannot laugh at it. Do you remember? I told Elsbeth that you were like Mr. Darcy."

"And that you don't like me?"

"Well—I didn't. That's why it's so queer—that I can talk to you so easily. I am grateful. It has helped, just talking."

"I knew it would."

"I feel better." She stirred in her seat. "Is it late? Ought we to be going home?"

He chose his words, his eyes on her, though he spoke casually enough.

"No hurry. We can always take a cut through the wood, you know."