"Now," he said, "what's happened? Why didn't you come this morning?"
"I stayed too long the first time," she answered, "and met Aunt Loo as I went in. She asked me where I'd been. I said I'd been out to swim in the lake. That was quite true. That was why I had gone out. I've often done it. But, of course, my hair wasn't wet. She didn't say anything. But this morning when I came down she was sitting in the hall, waiting for me. She asked me if I was going bathing again, and I said, No, I was going to walk in the park. So she said, 'Charming idea. I'll come, too.'"
"And what did you say?"
"I said, 'Do,' of course. But it was awful. I was so afraid of her seeing you."
"Suppose she had chosen to walk that way."
"Yes, of course I thought of that. So I led the way and walked straight toward you. Then she thought whoever I was going to meet must be the other way. So she insisted on going the other way. I knew she would."
"That was subtle of you."
"No; it's only that she's stupid. It wouldn't have taken any one else in."
"So she was baffled."
"Yes, but she has instincts, though she's so stupid. She knew there was something up. And then when we met you—oh, I am so glad the dog's all right—when we met you I knew she thought you'd something to do with my being out so early in the morning, and then you blushed."