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“Did I?” Looking up into his adoring eyes, her own glinted with mischief. “Well, it didn’t seem to—to—”

“To cramp my style?” John suggested wryly. “Don’t you understand, Rosamund, I was desperate! You seemed to be slipped away from me and I—” he left the sentence unfinished, but his lips sought hers again, not in passion now but as if he was seeking reassurance and comfort.

And in that brief moment of time it seemed to Rosamund that she was given a complete and awe-inspiring understanding of what love between a man and a woman can and should be. It was not simply a matter of romance, wonderful though that was. It was something much deeper and more enduring than that. It was the sharing of life in every respect, the desire to stand between the loved one and pain or danger. It was the knowledge that two imperfect human beings can make mistakes and yet forgive and start afresh. And perhaps, most important of all, it meant that there are times when even the strongest natures are vulnerable and need to know that they do not stand alone.

With utter conviction that this was one of those times, she put a hand on either side of John’s face.

“John, my own dear, I love you so much,” she said with passionate tenderness. “Now—and always. Believe that, for it’s the truth.”

And gently she laid her soft lips against his.

When Miss Alice returned she was, as she had anticipated, hot, tired and frankly, in none too good a temper. None the less, absorbed though she was in her own discomforts, she was quick to guess what had happened. True, John and Rosamund were simply sitting side by side on the deck, but before they had noticed her, she had realised how deeply absorbed they were in their conversation and as she got nearer and they jumped to their feet to greet her, she saw the unmistakable, glowing happiness in their faces.

“It’s happened,” she told herself helplessly. “They’ve told one another—this really is the last straw! What on earth do I do now? Oh, Rob, how I wish you were here!”

“Dear Miss Alice, you do look tired,” Rosamund said sympathetically. “Do sit down while I get you some tea. Everything’s ready so it won’t take a minute !”

“Thank you, I’ll get it for myself,” Miss Alice said gruffly, and turned her back on them, ashamed at her apparent ungraciousness, but feeling that she must have a few minutes to herself to think over this new situation.

When she had gone, John and Rosamund looked at one another in consternation.

“I’ve never seen her like this before,” Rosamund whispered, anxious not to be overheard. “What can be the matter?”

“She’s pretty shrewd. I imagine she guessed about us,” John frowned as he spoke.

“But how can she have done?” Rosamund protested. “I mean, we were only talking—”

John’s expression softened as he put a finger under her chin and tipped her face up.

“Yes, my love, just talking. But possibly you don’t realise that your eyes are like stars, and there’s a sort of radiance—”

For a moment they forgot Miss Alice and then John said uneasily:

“All the same, supposing she did guess, why should it have upset her, as it evidently did? I mean, why should she object? And in any case, what business is it of hers?”

“None, really,” Rosamund admitted. “Only she’s been very good to me and I think she’s really fond of me as I am of her. I think, perhaps, she feels sort of responsible for me-”

“Well, if she does, while I’m sure she’d be much more pleasant about it than your aunt was, she still mustn’t be allowed to interfere,” John started forcefully. “Rosamund, you won’t let her, will you?”

“No, John,” she promised gravely. “Neither Miss Alice nor anyone else.”

“Good!” He spoke emphatically, yet his expression was one of preoccupation. “You know, Rosamund, I think it might be a good idea if we—”

At that moment Miss Alice returned and it was clear that she had regained her usual poise.

“Sorry I was so shrewish,” she said cheerfully. “But I really was feeling at the end of my tether.”

“Yes, of course,” Rosamund began, and then, as John took her hand in his, she looked at him enquiringly.

“I think we’d both like Miss Alice to be the first to hear our news, wouldn’t we, Rosamund?” And when Rosamund nodded, he turned smilingly to Miss Alice. “Rosamund has promised to marry me, Miss Alice! Will you give us your good wishes?”

Miss Alice looked from one face to the other. How happy they looked and how confident! Well, that was only right, of course. To start their life together full of doubts and fears would be both unnatural and disastrous. Yet she herself could not feel entirely at ease. Had they really had time to know each other? And wasn’t that important, too?

Besides there was very definitely a protectiveness in John’s manner towards Rosamund which made her feel instinctively that something had happened during her absence—something unexpected and possibly alarming— which might have precipitated matters. Or was she imagining things? Wasn’t it only natural for a young man who was deeply in love to want to cherish the girl who had promised to entrust her life to him?

“I do, indeed, wish you both every happiness!” she said with a sincerity all the more genuine because of her unexpressed doubts. “Now, and for the rest of your lives!”

She kissed Rosamund affectionately, patted John’s shoulder in a friendly way and then remarked that if they didn’t mind, she’d like to have a little rest before it was time to think about the evening meal.

A little smile played round Rosamund’s lips as she watched her go.

“What a pet she is!” she murmured softly.

“What?” John asked in a preoccupied way.

“Well, perhaps she does want a rest, but I think she was being tactful because she must know that we’d rather be alone! ”

“Yes, I suppose so,” John agreed, but something in the way he said it made Rosamund look at him quickly.

“What is it, John?” she asked anxiously.

He hesitated for a moment. Then he laid a hand on either of her shoulders.

“Rosamund!” He spoke tensely, imperatively. “You do trust me, don’t you?”

“Yes, John,” Rosamund said unhesitatingly.

“Then—” his grasp of her shoulders increased to almost painful intensity— “will you marry me at once—without telling anyone, even Miss Alice?”

“BUT can we do that?” Rosamund asked. “I thought one had to wait quite a long time—weeks—before it was possible to get married.”

“So it is, if it’s a matter of having banns read,” John explained. “But it’s also possible to be married by licence and then there’s only a very short delay—a matter of a few days, I think. But I’ll have to go to London to find out the exact details. But if it is possible—will you, Rosamund?”

“Of course! ” she said unhesitatingly.

John took her arm in his arms and as he looked down into her candid trusting eyes, a little muscle flickered at the comer of his mouth.

“Bless you, darling,” he whispered fervently. “I swear you shan’t regret it! ”

“Of course I shan’t,” Rosamund said confidently.

“And—and I’m so glad you’ve suggested it, John. I shall feel so much safer, married to you!”

“Yes, that’s just it,” John agreed. “Once we’re married, nobody and nothing can ever come between us! ”

“That’s how I want it to be,” Rosamund sighed contentedly. “Actually, I think Aunt Ruth must realise by now that there’s nothing she can do, but once we’re married I shan’t even have to worry that she might still try. I shall just hide behind you, John, and feel perfectly safe.”

“I hope you’ll always be able to say that!”

Rosamund’s happiness was suddenly dimmed. There had been something disturbingly sombre about the way in which John had said that. It was as if, despite his determination, he wasn’t entirely confident.

“John, it’s not only because of Aunt Ruth that you’re worried, is it?” she asked gently. “Because you don’t have to be, you know. I mean, I think Miss Alice might try to persuade us to wait because she feels we haven’t known each other long enough—”

“Has she said so?” John asked sharply.

“No, she hasn’t,” Rosamund admitted. “But all the same, I do think she feels like that—”

“You’re quite sure you’re not just assuming that because really you yourself feel it’s true?” John asked searchingly.

Unconsciously Rosamund squared her shoulders as if to resist a threat she could sense but not understand.

“I’m quite sure, John,” she said simply. “To me, all that matters is that we know we love one another. We’ll have the whole of our lives to discover the rest, and I’m not frightened of the prospect. It sounds like—like heaven!”

With a queer, strangled exclamation, John caught her to him.

“You wonderful girl!” he said fervently, and then, as she smiled tremulously up at him: “That’s why I’ve got the jitters! I can’t believe my luck! You’re so wonderful that the mere thought of ever losing you—”

She felt his body shudder against hers and knew that his fear went even deeper than she had at first thought. There
was
something—but it was for John to tell her if he wanted to. If not, then she would just keep on loving and trusting him until his fear left him—

“You’re not going to lose me, John, I promise,” she vowed.

To her relief, the black mood seemed to fall from John like a discarded cloak. His thoughts turned to the practical aspects of the situation.

“Tomorrow—” he began, and stopped short, looking over his shoulder at the door through which Miss Alice had gone. “Rosamund, walk with me up to the
Seven Stars.
I’d rather not risk any chances of being overheard—”

“That’s better,” he said a few minutes later when they reached his boat. “Now then, tomorrow I’ll go up to town and make enquiries about the licence. I think there may be some residential qualifications required about at least one of us, but in all probability I can comply with them. Then I’ll phone you—oh, damn it, I can’t, of course. Well, in that case, I’ll give you a number and you can phone me there at some definite time. All right?”

“Yes, I’ll go into Bath to do some shopping,” Rosamund planned. “And it will sound convincing because it’s true.”

“Convincing?” he repeated sharply. “To whom? Miss Alice again? But, darling, we’ve decided, haven’t we, that it isn’t really her business.”

“I know, John,” Rosamund agreed quickly. “But don’t you see, whether it is or not, there’s far less chance of her asking awkward questions if I volunteer a reason before she has time to ask them?”

“Something in that,” John admitted. “On the same principle, I’d better give a reason for going to Town. And as it happens, it will also be a perfectly true one. Rosamund, I’ve had what may turn out to be very good news. I didn’t tell you in case nothing came of it—but I sent my first chapter to a firm of London publishers last week together with a short précis of the rest of the book. And this morning there was a letter waiting for me at the Shop from them. They want me to go and see them to discuss it—hey, steady on! You almost had me off my feet!” For Rosamund had flung herself into his arms and was hugging him with shameless delight.

“Oh,
John I”
she was bubbling over with enthusiasm. “How wonderful! How absolutely wonderful!”

“Well, it may be,” he admitted cautiously, though he returned her embrace with fervour. “But we mustn’t build too much on it yet. There may be snags. All the same—” he drew a deep, satisfied breath— “what a day! To know that you’re going to marry me and that there’s at least a chance for the book—”

“I’m glad you put the two events in their right order,” Rosamund said demurely.

John gave her a little shake.

“You vain little minx!” he said with mock severity. “All the same, I’m willing to pander to your vanity still further! I admit that in any case I would have been pleased about the book. That’s no more than natural. But cross my heart, Rosamund, it’s sharing the news with
you
and knowing what it may mean to us—” he finished his sentence with his lips on hers.

A little later, Rosamund decided that she must go back to the
Pride of London
to prepare the evening meal.

“Will you have it with us?” she asked as, reluctantly, John let her go.

He considered.

“No, I don’t think I will, if you don’t mind. Actually, I want to read through what I’ve already written so that it’s fresh in my mind. Particularly the précis. I’m not altogether satisfied with it. There are several situations that need expanding and it might be a good idea if I were to give them a bit more thought so that I can come up with the answers to any questions that might be asked. Provided, of course, that I can concentrate to that degree!” He touched her bright hair with gentle fingers. “You’re a considerable distraction, sweetheart, as well as an inspiration!”

Rosamund laughed softly.

“That sounds rather a contradictory statement! And I’m not quite sure which I prefer to be! But I do know one thing for sure—I mustn’t get between you and your work because it
is
you and I don’t want you to be any different. No, John darling, let me go now,” as his arms reached out for her again. “I shan’t be very far away, you know!”

He watched her go, and once again he was struck by the familiar elegance of her walk as he had been on the day that they met. And again he was convinced that he
had
seen her before in different circumstances somewhere, but again, for the life of him, he could not remember where.

Oh well, one of these days they must compare notes and see if it was possible that they had met.

In the meantime he really must get down to work.

Fleetingly, as he sat down at his work table, it occurred to him that neither Rosamund nor her aunt had given any hint as to what their work was. A little bit odd, perhaps—

Oh well—he dismissed it with a shrug of the shoulders—it wasn’t of any importance since, for Rosamund, that was all past history. He began to re-read what he had already written and was quickly absorbed in the world of his own invention.