"Just a moment," he pleaded. "I know Mrs. Vandeleur will be at Lady Northlake's conversazione—so that she can spare you; and this keen wind is wonderfully invigorating. Don't you feel the benefit of it after the exotic atmosphere of Mrs. Vandeleur's study? Too much of that can't be good for any one, either physically or mentally; and especially," he added, glancing at her thin face and lustrous eyes—"especially bad for you."
"Why especially bad for me?"
"Because I should think you are exceptionally sensitive, Miss Grahame. What you said just now proved that—I mean about those presentiments."
"Are you exceptionally sensitive, then?" she asked, forcing a little laugh. "For, as I understand, you have presentiments, too."
"Perhaps I am," he answered, slowly, "where some people are concerned. I have an impression about you, Miss Grahame, which is very strong indeed, and about which I want to speak to you."
For a moment Laline's heart seemed to stand still. Was he going to tell her that he had recognised her, and to show himself at last in his true colours?
"Please don't tell me!" she cried, sharply, with an unmistakable tremor in her voice. "It is late, and I am going home. Good-afternoon, Mr. Armstrong!"
"Don't go yet! Just walk once more up the avenue."
"I have not been very much about the world," Laline said, icily, "but I do not think it is customary for young ladies to walk about with strangers."
"I am not a stranger!" he said, emphatically. "Why do you look so startled, Miss Grahame? I can't believe that you and I met for the first time a week ago. If we did, why did you drop that crystal ball in consternation as soon as I entered the room, and why did I feel, as soon as I saw the lamplight on your face, that I had beheld it before? Only my recollection of you is as a child, with long bright hair waving about your shoulders, and——"