‘Well, I wanted to see you,’ was her answer.

‘What about?’

’I don’t think I shall be able to stay with the Mumfords.  They’re very nice people, but they’re not exactly my sort, and we don’t get on very well.  Where had I better go?’

‘Go?  Why home, of course.  The best place for you.’

Cobb was prepared for a hot retort, but it did not come.  After a moment’s reflection, Louise said quietly: 

’I can’t go home.  I’ve quarrelled with them too badly.  You haven’t seen mother lately?  Then I must tell you how things are.’

She did so, with no concealment save of the correspondence with Mr. Bowling, and the not unimportant statements concerning him which she had made to Mrs. Mumford.  In talking with Cobb, Louise seemed to drop a degree or so in social status; her language was much less careful than when she conversed with the Mumfords, and even her voice struck a note of less refinement.  Decidedly she was more herself, if that could be said of one who very rarely made conscious disguise of her characteristics.

‘Better stay where you are, then, for the present,’ said Cobb, when he had listened attentively.  ’I dare say you can get along well enough with the people, if you try.’

’That’s all very well; but what about paying them?  I shall owe three guineas for every week I stop.’

‘It’s a great deal, and they ought to feed you very well for it,’ replied the other, smiling rather sourly.

’Don’t be vulgar.  I suppose you think I ought to live on a few shillings a week.’

’Lots of people have to.  But there’s no reason why you should.  But look here:  why should you be quarrelling with your people now about that fellow Bowling?  You don’t see him anywhere, do you?’

He flashed a glance at her, and Louise answered with a defiant motion of the head.

’No, I don’t.  But they put the blame on me, all the same.  I shouldn’t wonder if they think I’m trying to get him.’

She opened her umbrella, for heavy drops had begun to fall; they pattered on Cobb’s hard felt hat, and Louise tried to shelter him as well as herself.

‘Never mind me,’ he said.  ’And here, let me hold that thing over you.  If you just put your arm in mine, it’ll be easier.  That’s the way.  Take two steps to my one; that’s it.’

Again they were silent for a few moments.  They had reached the Common, and Cobb struck along a path most likely to be unfrequented.  No wind was blowing; the rain fell in steady spots that could all but be counted, and the air grew dark.

‘Well, I can only propose one thing,’ sounded the masculine voice.  ‘You can get out of it by marrying me.’

Louise gave a little laugh, rather timid than scornful.

’Yes, I suppose I can.  But it’s an awkward way.  It would be rather like using a sledge-hammer to crack a nut.’

‘It’ll come sooner or later,’ asserted Cobb, with genial confidence.