Together with Crum rose the scene in the promenade of the Pandemonium.

To-day he had not had the faintest desire to unbosom himself to Holly about his father.

His father lacked poetry, the stirrings of which he was feeling for the first time in his nineteen years.

The Liberty, with Cynthia Dark, that almost mythical embodiment of rapture; the Pandemonium, with the woman of uncertain age--both seemed to Val completely 'off,' fresh from communion with this new, shy, dark-haired young cousin of his.

She rode 'Jolly well,' too, so that it had been all the more flattering that she had let him lead her where he would in the long gallops of Richmond Park, though she knew them so much better than he did.