"Oh, what a doubtful compliment," said Alice gaily; "am I then, or rather was I, an ugly duckling?"
"No, my dear, you were never an ugly duckling, but what I mean is that you have turned from a fairy into a pretty nymph."
"That is better," said Miss Enistor graciously, as the motor whizzed out of the town and began to climb the long winding road to the moors. "You are improving, Julian. But you don't ask me how I have enjoyed myself."
"There is no need. Your appearance speaks for you."
Alice laughed. "Do you think that my looks are due simply to a short season of pleasure in London?"
"Well, not exactly," rejoined Hardwick in his stolid way; "in fact, seeing that you have been staying with Amy, I expected you to look more fagged than you do. Amy makes a toil of pleasure and is certainly a very wearing woman to live with."
"She is a dear," said Miss Enistor warmly, "and has been most kind. But you are right about her feverish pursuit of pleasure," she said, with an after-thought. "Amy never rests!"
"And never lets any one else rest, which is worse," said Julian grimly; he looked at her sideways. "Yes! Mere London pleasure cannot account for your happy looks. Well, let me know who he is!"
"Let you know who he is?" repeated Alice, blushing and looking prettier than ever, "do you mean——"
"I think you know what I mean. You are in love at last."