CHAPTER VIII

MR FRAZER GOES SHOPPING

THE morning was bright and clear; the air was

sweet and buoyant; the food was good, the man and the girl were hungry, they both made an excellent meal. And, while they ate and drank, and, between whiles, talked, each, more or less furtively, took stock of the other. Dorothy found that the hazy impression she had formed of the stranger overnight was not in the least bit like him. He was younger than she had thought. She was not much of a judge of men's years; since her experience of them was so extremely limited, it was hardly likely that she would be. In the darkness she had set him down as somewhere in the forties; now, in the bright sunshine, which ages some of us, she supposed him to be somewhere in the early thirties. There was about him an appearance of vigour-the vigour which goes with youth-for which she was unprepared. Then, too, he was so much betterlooking than she had taken him to be-perhaps in thinking so she was influenced by the accident that she was dark and he was fair. His eyes were very blue, and very bright; the skin of his face and neck, though slightly tanned, was delicate as any girl's; his

hair and beard were flaxen. He was taller, too, than she had imagined-when he stood up she saw that he must be at least six feet; his shoulders were so broad, he held himself so straight, there was about him such a glow of health and strength, that it did her good to look at him. And his attire suited him well; or she thought it did-certainly there could scarcely have been less of it. He wore no cap or coat or waistcoat; his canvas shirt was open at the neck; his grey flannel trousers had as belt a handkerchief of scarlet silk; he was shod with stout brown shoes. It was a costume suited to fine weather out-of-doors; and, free and easy as it was, both it and the wearer pleased the lady's undoubtedly inexperienced eyes.

What impression she made on him it was not easy to determine; not impossibly the morning light had brought a surprise also to him. One felt, not only that she puzzled him, but that the puzzle continually grew. In his speech he owned as much. When the dish and the plates were empty he regarded her with a whimsical smile.

"It's good to eat when you're hungry."

"Yes," she agreed; "it is."

"Do you know that it's past eleven o'clock; and that when I'm abroad in this house of mine I make it a rule to have all signs of breakfast cleared away before the clock strikes eight."

She began to stammer.

"I beg your pardon; I am so sorry; it's all my fault; but I—I did sleep so late. Now I-I won't

hinder you any longer; I'll go." She stood up. "I -don't quite know where; I-I don't know this part of the country very well-I am very much. obliged for all you've done for me; you-you've been very kind. I have no money; but when I have I'll-I'll pay you for what you've done, if you'll let me know to what address to send." "I think you're very stupid."

She crimsoned.

Good-bye."

"I also think that you're ill-mannered."

She had turned to go; but there was something in the quiet finality of his tone which caused her to turn to him again.

"Why?"

"I think you're the first because you speak of paying for what, you ought to know, I'm only too glad to give; as if I were the sort of person to accept money from a lady who has been my guest!"

"I beg your pardon; I-I'm so stupid."

"I said you were. I think that you're the second because, no sooner are you through your own meal than you rush off, before your host has finished."

"I thought you had; I did not mean to be illmannered; I thought you wanted me to go."

"You are mistaken. It is another rule of mine -and this is a rule which I don't propose to breakwhen I am done with the actual eating and drinking, to smoke a pipe; I regard that pipe as an integral

part of my breakfast. I don't know why you should wish to deprive me of it."

"I don't; I didn't know you wanted another; I saw you smoking one just now, before we began." "That was because breakfast was unwontedly delayed; also that is no reason why now I shouldn't have another. When I am enjoying my breakfast pipe I like, when opportunity offers, to have a chat. You spoke of payment. I suggest that your payment takes the form of sitting down and talking to me till I have smoked my pipe right out. Have you any particular objection ?"

"I don't mind staying, if you want me to, till you-you've done your pipe."

"Thank you; then will you have the goodness to resume your seat while I load up? One can't talk to a person who will persist in standing."

She sank down again upon the turf. As he crammed the tobacco into the bowl of his briar she regarded the tablecloth with doubtful eyes.

"Can I—can I clear away the things, and wash up for you?"

'No, you can't; all you can do is sit still, and talk. Let me begin by introducing myself; my name is Frazer-Eric Frazer. You were so kind as to tell me last night that yours was Dorothy. As it is unusual for a man to address a woman by her Christian name after such a short acquaintance as ours hath been, may I ask you to tell me what your surname is, so that we can start fair?"

She hesitated; then told him a falsehood; she herself could not have said why.

"My name is Greenwood."

Somehow, the instant she had spoken, she felt he doubted. He looked at her, over the lighted match which he was holding to the bowl of his pipe; and, though she did not try to meet his glance, she knew that in it there was something sceptical.

"Greenwood?-your name is Greenwood? Dorothy Greenwood-Miss Greenwood. Thank you; I am flattered by the confidence in me which your telling me your name implies." Having completed the operation of lighting his pipe, folding his arms across his chest, he observed her with a steady attention which made her feel curiously uncomfortable. She began to wish that, ill-mannered or not, she had gone when she said she would. Nor were matters improved when he began to ask her questions; which he did in a cool, level voice which, for some cause, jarred upon her nerves. "You were so good as to inform me, also last night, when I inquired how it was that I was so fortunate as to be favoured with your society, that you came from the road. Now the road runs both ways; which one did you come from?"

Summoning her courage she looked at him with what she meant to be defiance.

"I would rather not tell you, if you don't mind." "That's better; much better." What he meant she did not know; yet she felt that it was something