"May I go on?
I was saying that when one friend disappoints another--bitterly!--there is such a thing as making up!" There were beautiful notes in Falloden's deep voice, when he chose to employ them.

He employed them now, and the old thrill of something that was at once delight and fear ran through Constance.

But she looked him in the face, apparently quite unmoved.
"Now it is you who are piling it on! You will use such tragic expressions for the most trivial things.

Of course, I am sorry if--" "Then make amends!"-- he said quickly.

"Promise me--if the mare turns out well--you will ride in Lathom Woods--on Saturday ?" His eyes shone upon her.