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prudent, well-behaved governess—she meant to stay. She didn’t really care a straw for Waring, and she didn’t flatter herself that he was in any way serious as far as she herself was concerned. But he was—disturbing. He meant to be. It was easy to drift into a flirtation, but with a man like Gerald Waring it might not prove quite so easy to find one’s moorings again. Yes, the veranda was decidedly safer. And when Mrs. Holmes appeared in the lighted french windows of the smoking-room, she was glad she had not chosen even the smallest rush-light to play with; for in Vera Holmes’s voice was a sharp note that Ann had learnt to know quite well. So far, it hadn’t been directed against her—not until this moment. No one else might have sensed anything of irritation in Mrs. Holmes’s tone. But Ann was quick. The elder woman didn’t seem altogether pleased that she had appeared amongst the dancers. Ann realized in this moment that her employer would not be likely to tolerate any flirtation carried on by “the governess.” Well, Mrs. Holmes should be given no cause for disapproval, decided Ann.

“I wish you’d get me some aspirin, Miss Merrill. I’ve got an awfully bad head. There’s a bottle on my dressing-table, or in the medicine chest, or somewhere in my room. And bring a glass of water from the dining-room, will you?”

“Yes, of course.”

Ann rose quite cheerfully to do as she was asked, and passed down the lighted hall to Mrs. Holmes’s bedroom. The women’s wraps were in this room—the men had used Holmes’s room opposite in which to change. Ann understood that Mrs. Holmes was a bad sleeper. She walked in her sleep sometimes, and had