He would accompany her to the broad riding. His young pheasants were all right under the shelter.

When he and she came out on to the riding, there was Mrs. Bolton faltering palely towards them.

“Oh, my Lady, we wondered if anything had happened!”

“No! Nothing has happened.”

Mrs. Bolton looked into the man’s face, that was smooth and new-looking with love. She met his half-laughing, half-mocking eyes. He always laughed at mischance. But he looked at her kindly.

“Evening, Mrs. Bolton! Your Ladyship will be all right now, so I can leave you. Good night to your ladyship! Good night, Mrs. Bolton!”