Surely, Rita--" But Margaret had flung the door open and was darting down the stairs.
"Where is he ?" she demanded fiercely of Williams, still in the drawing-room doorway.
"In the garden, ma'am," said Williams.

"He didn't pay no attention." But Margaret was rushing through the drawing-room.

At the French windows she caught sight of him, walking up and down in his usual quick, alert manner, now smelling flowers, now staring up into the trees, now scrutinizing the upper windows of the house.

She drew back, waited until she had got her breath and had composed her features.

Then, with the long skirts of her graceful pale-blue dress trailing behind her, and a big white sunshade open and resting upon her shoulder, she went down the veranda steps and across the lawn toward him.