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luxury she’s always been used to when the initial glamour wears off, as it always does. A pity you’re not a rich man, you know. If you were, your marriage could well be a success. As it is—” she shook her head. “Not a chance! Not, of course, that in your present besotted state you believe that. But remember, you have been warned!”
    Over Rosamund’s bent head John watched Ruth walk slowly along the towpath to vanish through the gate in the hedge. There was a peculiar expression in his eyes, part apprehension, but to a far greater degree of determination. But when Rosamund lifted her head from his shoulder, she saw nothing but kindness and strength there.
    Tentatively she sought to free herself and instantly John let her go.
    “Well, that’s that!” he announced cheerfully, and then, as Rosamund didn’t reply, he went on matter-of-factly: “I suggest that we indulge ourselves in Miss Alice’s inevitable panaceas for all ills—a cup of tea! After that we’ll talk things over.”
    Suddenly tongue-tied now that she and John were alone, Rosamund nodded in silence and ran quickly up the gangplank.
    “I’ll just tidy up first—” she said breathlessly, and hurried to her cabin.
    Quickly she washed her face and hands, combed her hair and then stood hesitating over the choice of a dress. Not that there was a very large or inspiring selection. But there was one dress, a bluish-green which she knew suited her fair colouring better than anything else she had. Usually she kept it for special occasions—well, wasn’t this a very special occasion? Of all times, didn’t she want to look her very best?
    She slipped into the dress, slid her feet into more attractive sandals and then, all ready to face up to John, she suddenly lost her self-confidence.
    John had told Aunt Ruth that they were going to be married, but had he really meant it? Wasn’t it much more likely that he had said it on the spur of the moment because he realised that it was the one argument which would checkmate Aunt Ruth?
    She drew a deep breath. She knew that she loved John, but not that he loved her, and just because he’d come to her rescue so unhesitatingly didn’t mean that she had any right to keep him to his word. She’d got to make him understand that—it was only fair.
    She walked through to the galley and found John already there, just about to pour boiling water into the teapot. He looked up with a grin as she came in.
    “I’m quite domesticated, these days,” he remarked proudly. “Pop up on to the deck and I’ll bring the tray.”
    Rosamund understood. That light, easy manner was, she felt sure, meant to put her at her ease, but it had the reverse effect. To her it meant just one thing—that without embarrassing her by putting it into words, John was telling her that there was nothing for her to worry about—that nothing that had happened need be taken seriously.
    They drank their tea in a silence which seemed to Rosamund to grow more oppressive with every passing moment, yet it was beyond her power to break it. But John, though not exactly scowling, certainly looked worried. Supposing that he had already guessed that she loved him! She must take the initiative—
    “Another cup?” John asked abruptly, and when she refused: “Then shall we talk things over?” he suggested.
    “John—” She saw that he looked taken aback at her urgency and it needed all her courage to go on. “Before you say anything, I want to tell you that I—I think it was quite wonderful of you to come to my rescue the way you did, but of course, I quite understand—”
    “Just what do you understand?” John asked grimly.
    “Why, that you—you only said—what you did to stop Aunt Ruth—”
    “Now, let’s get this straight,” John insisted. “Do you mean that you think I said that we were going to get married simply to get the better of that objectionable aunt of yours?”
    “Yes,” Rosamund said miserably. Then, with suddenly upflung