could not remember who it was; thinking fatigued him excessively these days. Upon one thing he congratulated himself, he possessed a clue in the name of the hotel at which she was to stay.
When at last the day of his emancipation came, Beresford found himself as excited as a child upon the morning of a school-treat. Soon after dawn he was gazing out of the window to assure himself that the weather was not about to play him another scurvy trick, such as it had done on the first day of his adventure. With a sigh of content he saw that the sky over the pinewoods opposite was blue-grey and cloudless. He returned to bed thinking, not of the weather, but of the Rain-Girl.
Soon after breakfast Tallis called to bid him good-bye.
"Now, young fellow," he said, "no tricks. Remember you are weak, and won't be able to stand much fatigue. If you set out to walk ten miles a day, or anything like it, your little worries and problems will settle themselves; but don't do it. I'm frightfully busy, and inquests are the devil."
"You've got a cheerful way of putting things," said Beresford drily.
"I've discovered that it's no use putting things to you in the normal way," replied Tallis with a smile. "To say that you are pig-headed is unfair to the porker. Remember," he added, warningly, "three miles at the outside to-day; I doubt if you'll want to do more than two."
"Oh, rot!" cried Beresford. "Look here, I'll give
