road, holding a sunshade in one hand and her gown in the other, it was a promenade rather than a walk. Olivia walked with the easy step of a girl country born and country bred, and albeit it was a little more than a saunter, she soon walked Madame Koller out of breath.
Pembroke had but little share in the conversation. Except a laughing reference to him occasionally, he was left out, and had full opportunity to compare the two women—which he did with an amused smile. Compliments were plenty from Madame Koller, which Olivia deftly parried or ignored. In a little while the turning was in sight where both left the high road, and a path in one direction led to Isleham, and in another, gave a short cut to The Beeches. Pembroke was beginning to apprehend an awkward predicament for himself as to which one of the ladies he should accompany, when Olivia cut the knot.
"Here I must leave you—good-bye, Madam Koller, I shall see you during the week—good-bye—" to Pembroke.
"There is Madame Koller's carriage in sight," remarked Pembroke, thinking that offered a solution of the problem—to which Olivia only responded pleasantly—"Good-bye—good-bye—" and tripped off.
Madame Koller looked rather foolish—she had been outgeneraled completely.
"There is your carriage," again said Pembroke, this time looking straight at her.
