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formed part of her trousseau. She could imagine just how tactfully her mother would refrain from remarking that it was really only sensible to use it—and the other clothes she had left behind. And yet that was the truth. It would be stupid to buy new clothes which she could not afford when all that she needed was ready to hand “Thank you very much, Mrs. Mayberry,” she said steadily. “If you’re sure you can spare me?”
    “Yes, dear, of course I can. Now, if you catch the early train—no, wait a minute. If you put it off a day. Owen can drive you up. He’s going to London anyhow and it will hardly take him out of his way at all. Yes that’s a far better plan. It will give you a lot more time with your parents than if you go by train. And he is returning the following day so he can pick you up—’
    “Oh, but really, that’s too much to ask of him,’ Lucy said hurriedly. “Really, it’s quite all right for me to go by train!”
    She had no wish whatsoever to spend several hours alone with Owen in the close confines of a car, but Mrs. Mayberry had already lifted the house telephone and was speaking to Owen.
    “Yes, that’s quite all right,” she said a moment later “He will be starting at half past nine the day after tomorrow, and he can pick you up the next day a eleven.”
    “Very well,” Lucy said meekly because it was impossible to reject the offer without appearing ungracious. “I’ll see to it that I’m ready on time so that I don’t keep him waiting.”
    “Yes, perhaps you’d better,” Mrs. Mayberry agreed “If there is one thing that Owen is a bit difficult about it is punctuality!”
    Lucy smiled a trifle wryly. One thing that he was difficult about! Surely that was an understatement if ever there was one!
    * * *
    Lucy did not imagine for a moment that Owen could have really welcomed having her as a travelling companion. Like her, he had much more likely accepted the situation because there was really no way out, but at least he gave no sign of annoyance and even went so far as to produce sufficient small talk to avoid awkward silences. As a result, Lucy found it comparatively easy to do her share, and the journey passed with none of the embarrassment she had anticipated.
    It passed far more quickly, too, than had seemed likely, although, despite the powerfulness of his car, Owen had kept his speed well within reasonable bounds. Involuntarily Lucy remembered some of the drives she had taken with Dick in the secondhand car he had run. Dick loved speed and invariably he flogged every last ounce of power out of the car until Lucy had felt as if her teeth were chattering in sympathy with its boneshaking vibration. Those trips had made her feel physically and mentally tired—but she had never had the heart to ask Dick to drive more slowly because he was so obviously enjoying himself. Except,, of course, that he had so often mourned his inability to have a better car—
    When they reached Lucy's home, secure in the knowledge that she had telephoned her mother the previous evening, she asked Owen if he would come in and meet her parents. She had not expected for a moment that he would want to, but to her astonishment, he agreed readily. On the whole, Lucy was glad. In Owen's presence it would be impossible for their greeting to her to show any more than very normal emotion.
    She was a little concerned, however, as to how Owen and her parents would get on together, but she need not have worried. Whatever his manners might be in his own home, as a guest they were exemplary and he showed a deference to a generation senior to his own in a way which took no account of wealth or social position.
    He accepted Mrs. Darvill’s offer of tea with what at least appeared to be genuine gratitude, and accompanied Mr. Darvill into the garden while Lucy went with her mother to the kitchen.
    “It was very kind of Mr. Vaughan to bring you,” Mrs. Darvill remarked, lighting the gas under the kettle. “In