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'The mixture is too rich。' So was it with Mr Pickering now。 The moonlight alone might not have held him； Claire's voice alone might not have held him； but against the two bined he was powerless。 The mixture was too rich。 He sat and breathed a little stertorously； and there came to him that conviction that es to all of us now and then； that we are at a crisis of our careers and that the moment through which we are living is a moment big with fate。
The voice in the drawing…room stopped。 Having sung songs of Araby and tales of far Cashmere； Mr Roscoe Sherriff was refreshing himself with a ic paper。 But Lady Wetherby； seated at the piano； still touched the keys softly； and the sound increased the richness of the mixture which choked Dudley Pickering's spiritual carburettor。 It is not fair that a rather stout manufacturer should be called upon to sit in the moonlight while a beautiful girl； to the acpaniment of soft music； reproaches him with having avoided her。
'I should be so sorry； Mr Pickering； if I had done anything to make a difference between us'
'Eh？' said Mr Pickering。
'I have so few real friends over here。'
Claire's voice trembled。
'II get a little lonely； a little homesick sometimes'
She paused； musing； and a spasm of pity rent the bosom beneath Dudley Pickering's ample shirt。 There was a buzzing in his ears and a lump choked his throat。
'Of course； I am loving the life here。 I think America's wonderful； and nobody could be kinder than Lady Wetherby。 ButI miss my home。 It's the first time I have been away for so long。 I feel very far away sometimes。 There are only three of us at home： my mother； myself； and my little brotherlittle Percy。'
Her voice trembled again as she spoke the last two words； and it was possibly this that caused Mr Pickering to visualize Percy as a sort of little Lord Fauntleroy； his favourite character in English literature。 He had a vision of a small； delicate； wistful child pining away for his absent sister。 Consumptive probably。 Or curvature of the spine。
He found Claire's hand in his。 He supposed dully he must have reached out for it。 Soft and warm it lay there； while the universe paused breathlessly。 And then from the semi…darkness beside him there came the sound of a stifled sob； and his fingers closed as if someone had touched a button。
'We have always been such chums。 He is only tensuch a dear boy！ He must be missing me'
She stopped； and simultaneously Dudley Pickering began to speak。
There is this to be said for your shy； cautious man； that on the rare occasions when he does tap the vein of eloquence that vein bees a geyser。 It was as if after years of silence and monosyllables Dudley Pickering was endeavouring to restore the average。
He began by touching on his alleged neglect and avoidance of Claire。 He called himself names and more names。 He plumbed the depth of repentance and remorse。 Proceeding from this； he eulogized her courage； the pluck with which she presented a smiling face to the world while tortured inwardly by separation from her little brother Percy。 He then turned to his own feelings。
But there are some things which the historian should hold sacred； some things which he should look on as proscribed material for his pen； and the actual words of a stout manufacturer of automobiles proposing marriage in the moonlight fall into this class。 It is enough to say that Dudley Pickering was definite。 He left no room for doubt as to his meaning。
'Dudley！'
She was in his arms。 He was embracing her。 She was histhe latest model； self…starting； with limousine body and all the newest。 No； no； his mind was wandering。 She was his； this divine girl； this queen among women； this
From the drawing…room Roscoe Sherriff's voice floated out in unconscious ment
Good…bye； boys！
I'm going to be married to…morrow。 Good…bye； boys！
I'm going from sunshine to sorrow。 No more sitting up till broad daylight。
Did a momentary chill cool the intensity of Dudley Pickering's ardour？ If so he overcame it instantly。 He despised Roscoe Sherriff。 He flattered himself that he had shown Roscoe Sherriff pretty well who was who and what was what。
They would have a wonderful weddingdozens of clergymen； scores of organs playing 'The Voice that Breathed o'er Eden；' platoons of bridesmaids； wagonloads of cake。 And then they would go back to Detroit and live happy ever after。 And it might be that in time to e there would be given to them little runabouts。
I'm going to a life Of misery and strife； So good…bye； boys！
Hang Roscoe Sherriff！ What did he know about it！ Confound him！ Dudley Pickering turned a deaf ear to the song and wallowed in his happiness。
Claire walked slowly down the moonlit drive。 She had removed herself from her Dudley's embraces； for she wished to be alone； to think。 The engagement had been announced。 All that part of it was overDudley's stammering speech； the unrestrained delight of Polly Wetherby； the facetious rendering of 'The Wedding Glide' on the piano by Roscoe Sherriff； and it now remained for her to try to discover a way of conveying the news to Bill。
It had just struck her that； though she knew that Bill was in America； she had not his address。
What was she to do？ She must tell him。 Otherwise it might quite easily happen that they might meet in New York when she returned there。 She pictured the scene。 She saw herself walking with Dudley Pickering。 Along came Bill。 'Claire； darling！' 。。。 Heavens； what would Dudley think？ It would be too awful！ She couldn't explain。 No； somehow or other； even if she put detectives on his trail； she must find him； and be off with the old love now that she was on with the new。
She reached the gate and leaned over it。 And as she did so someone in the shadow of a tall tree spoke her name。 A man came into the light； and she saw that it was Lord Dawlish。
11
Lord Dawlish had gone for a moonlight walk that night because； like Claire； he wished to be alone to think。 He had fallen with a pleasant ease and smoothness into the rather curious life lived at Elizabeth Boyd's bee…farm。 A liking for picnics had lingered in him from boyhood； and existence at Flack's was one prolonged picnic。 He found that he had a natural aptitude for the more muscular domestic duties； and his energy in this direction enchanted Nutty； who before his advent had had a monopoly of these tasks。
Nor was this the only aspect of the situation that pleased Nutty。 When he had invited Bill to the farm he had had a vague hope that good might e of it； but he had never dreamed that things would turn out as well as they promised to do； or that such a warm and immediate friendship would spring up between his sister and the man who had diverted the family fortune into his own pocket。 Bill and Elizabeth were getting on splendidly。 They were together all the timewalking； golfing； attending to the numerous needs of the bees； or sitting on the porch。 Nutty's imagination began to run away with him。 He seemed to smell the scent of orange…blossoms； to hear the joyous pealing of church bellsin fact； with the difference that it was not his own wedding that he was anticipating； he had begun to take very much the same view of the future that was about to e to Dudley Pickering。
Elizabeth would have been startled and embarrassed if she could have read his thoughts； for they might have suggested to her that she was being a great deal fonder of Bill than the shortness of their acquaintance warranted。 But though she did not fail to observe the strangeness of her brother's manner； she traced it to another source than the real one。 Nutty had a habit of starting back and removing himself when； entering the porch； he perceived that Bill and his sister were already seated there。 His own impression on such occasions was that he was behaving with consummate tact。 Elizabeth supposed that he had had some sort of a spasm。
Lord Dawlish； if he had been able to diagnose correctly the almost paternal attitude which had bee his host's normal manner these days； would have been equally embarrassed but less startled； for conscience had already suggested to him from time to time that he had been guilty of a feeling toward Elizabeth w