She raised her lips to kiss his neck.  “That’s the loveliest thing you ever said to me, darling,” she said, with a throb in her voice.  “I love being an invalid—­with you to spoil me.  But—­if you’ll promise—­promise—­promise—­to love me quite as much—­if I get well, I will get well—­really well—­for your sake.”

Again she was panting.  He felt it as he held her, and after a moment or two very tenderly he laid her back.

“God bless you, my dear!” he said.  “You needn’t be afraid.  I’ve learnt my lesson, and I shan’t forget it.”

“The lesson of love!” she murmured, holding his hand against her thumping heart.

“Yes.  Juliet began the teaching.  A wonderful girl that.  She seems to know everything.  I wonder where she learnt it.”

“She is wonderful,” Vera agreed thoughtfully.  “I sometimes think she has had a hard life.  She says so little about herself.”

“She has moved among a fairly rapid lot,” observed the squire.  “Lord Saltash is intimate enough to call her by her Christian name.”

“Does he ever talk about her?” asked Vera, interested.

“Not much,” said the squire.

“You think he is fond of her at all?”

“I don’t know.  He doesn’t see much of her.  I haven’t quite got his measure yet.  He isn’t the sort of man I thought he was anyway.”

“Then it wasn’t true about Lady Joanna Farringmore?” questioned Vera.

Fielding hesitated.  “I don’t know,” he said again.  “I have a suspicion that that report was not entirely unfounded.  But however that may be, she isn’t with him now.”

“You don’t think she is—­on board the yacht?” suggested Vera.

“No, I don’t.  The yacht is being done up for a voyage.  A beautiful boat from all accounts.  He is very proud of her.  I am to go over her with him one of these days, when she’s ready—­which will be soon.”

Vera uttered a short sigh.  “I wish we’d get a yacht, Edward,” she said.

“Do you?  Why?” He was looking at her attentively, a smile in his eyes.

She coloured faintly.  “I don’t know.  It’s just a fancy, I suppose—­a sick fancy.  But I believe I could get well much quicker if I went for a voyage like that.”

“You’d be bored to death,” said Fielding.

She looked at him through sudden tears.  “Bored!  With you!” she said.

He patted her cheek gently.  “Wouldn’t you be bored?  Quite sure?  Suppose we were to borrow that yacht, do you think you’d really like it?”

Her eyes shone through the tears.  “Of course I should love it!” she said.  “Is there—­is there any chance of such a thing?”

“Every chance,” said Fielding.  “Saltash most kindly placed her, with the captain and crew, at my disposal only last night.”

“Oh, Edward!  How tremendously kind!” She looked at him with an eagerness that seemed to transform her.  “But—­but would you like it too?  Wouldn’t you—­wouldn’t you feel it was an awful waste of time?”