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possible!”
    “But I can’t do that, Miss Ravensdale,” Charles protested quietly.
    “Oh?” she said stonily, “and why not?”
    “Well,” Charles said slowly. "For one thing, I want work and this seems very suitable to me. And for another, I understand from your aunt that she is your guardian—that at present you are not of age ”
    “So that’s it!” Her voice was so low that he could hardly hear what she said. Without another word she went over to her car and got into it. As she was about to let the clutch in she hesitated and turned round.
    “At the moment,” she said clearly, “you seem to have won the first round! But don’t be too pleased with yourself! And don’t settle yourself in too thoroughly at the cottage! Because I am determined that you shall go.”
    “And I,” Charles said quietly, “am just as determined to stay!”
    For a moment the blue eyes and the brown clashed. And it was Judith’s that fell first.
    She let in the clutch with a bang and drove recklessly off up the drive.
    Charles drew a long breath. He felt as if he had been swimming for a very long time against an almost overpoweringly strong current.
    *
    Half an hour later Judith drove away from the house again. But this time, in order that she might not pass the cottage, she went out by the other gates.
    It had been a stormy interview between aunt and niece—and Judith had come off worst because, if she had only realised it, it was her uncontrolled rage at the situation which confirmed Miss Ravensdale in her belief that what she was doing was right. And in that belief she could stand up to all Judith’s onslaughts.
    And, wisely, Miss Ravensdale kept to arguments that were irrefutable.
    “You agreed that there was too much work for you and that we needed someone. You have taken no steps to find an agent, so I have had to. If you do not like my choice, you have only yourself to blame!”
    At that, Judith had shifted her angle of attack. She questioned her aunt’s right to interfere in her affairs when she was so nearly of age.
    “My dear Judith,” Miss Ravensdale said rather wearily. “Do you think that I have not gone into that? I consulted Mr. Bellairs not only about this, but other plans—” she checked herself, but Judith faced her resolutely.
    “You’d better tell me everything that you have planned,” she said stonily. “And then I shall go and see Mr. Bellairs myself!”
    “A good idea!” her aunt agreed. “Well, for a month or so I want you to work with Mr. Saxilby so that he can take over from you, and then—I want you to come abroad with me for a few months!”
    “The South of France?” Judith asked scornfully. “I’d rather die!”
    “That’s rather an extreme statement,” Miss Ravensdale said mildly. “But as a matter of fact, I had not thought of France—for one thing it will be rather too hot for comfort at that time of year.”
    Judith scowled. She knew quite well that her aunt disagreed with the way in which she had been brought up, and that several times there had been arguments about sending her to a finishing school or at least bringing her out properly, and now she suspected Miss Ravensdale of deliberately pointing out her ignorance—as if she didn’t know that it was hot along the Mediterranean shores in the summer.
    “I had thought—Canada. We have got relatives there—they farm. It would be interesting for you ”
    The scowl deepened.
    “You’re trying to marry me off, aren’t you?” Judith asked bluntly. “I know you are the sort of woman who thinks no woman is happy unless she is married.”
    If her aunt winced Judith did not notice it, and Miss Ravensdale said quietly:
    “No, I wasn’t thinking of that. I certainly hope that you will marry one day ”
    “Of course I shall!” Judith interrupted impatiently. “There must be someone to look after Windygates when I die. I shall have a son ”
    Miss Ravensdale ignored the bland assumption and went on as if she had not