Jill made no further endeavour to restrain the guilty laughter which was trembling upon her lips.

“I b-believe you just love her,” she bubbled.

I thought very rapidly.  Then—­

“I think we all do,” said I.  “She’s very attractive.”

“I mean it,” said Jill.

“So do I. Look at her ears.  Oh, I forgot.  Hides them under her hair, doesn’t she?  Her eyes, then.”

“I observe,” said Jill pompously, “that you are sitting up and taking notice.  Your adol—­adol—­er—­what you said, is at hand.  You are emerging from the chrysalis of ignorance——­”

“This is blasphemy.  You wicked girl.  And what are you getting at?  Matchmaking or only blackmail?”

“Well, it’s time you got married, isn’t it?  I don’t want you to, dear, but I know you’ve got to soon, and—­and I’d like you to be happy.”

There was a little catch in her voice, and I looked down to see her eyes shining.

“Little Jill,” I said, “if I marry six wives, I shall still be in love with my cousin—­a little fair girl, with great grey eyes and the prettiest ways and a heart of the purest gold.  And now shall we cry here or by The Serpentine?”

She caught at my arm, laughing.

“Boy, you’re very——­Oh, I say!  Where’s Nobby?”

We had reached the Achilles Statue, and a hurried retrospect showed me the terrier some thirty paces away, exchanging discourtesies with an Aberdeen.  The two were walking round each other with a terrible deliberation, and from their respective demeanours it was transparently clear that only an immediate distraction could avert the scandal of a distressing brawl.

Regardless of my surroundings, I summoned the Sealyham in my “parade” voice.  To my relief he started and, after a menacing look at his opponent, presumably intended to discourage an attack in rear, cautiously withdrew from his presence and, once out of range, came scampering in our direction.

My brother-in-law and Daphne, whom we had outdistanced, arrived at the same time.

As I was reproving the terrier—­

“The very people,” said a familiar voice.

It was the Assistant Commissioner, labouring under excitement which he with difficulty suppressed.  He had been hurrying, and was out of breath.

“I want you to cross the road and walk along by the side of The Row,” he said jerkily.  “If you see anyone you recognize, take off your hat.  And, Mrs. Pleydell, you lower your parasol.”

“But, my dear chap,” said Berry, “they were all masked.”

“Well, if you recognize a voice, or even——­”

“A voice?  My dear fellow, we’re in the open air.  Besides, what jury——­”

“For Heaven’s sake,” cried the other, “do as I ask I I know it’s a chance in a million.  Think me mad, call me a fool—­anything you like ... but go.”

His earnestness was irresistible.

I whistled to Nobby—­who had seized the opportunity of straying, apparently by accident, towards a bull-terrier—­and started to stroll in the direction of The Row.  Jill walked beside me, twittering, and a glance over my shoulder showed me my sister and Berry a horse’s length behind.  Behind them, again, came the Assistant Commissioner.