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“Same here! And it really is curious considering she’s always been so jolly decent to us both. I wonder——”

He broke off, knitting his brows perplexedly, and as if in response to his unspoken thought Grace exclaimed:

“Roger, do you think she could have had anything to do with those missing papers?”

He glanced at her in astonishment.

“What makes you ask that, darling?”

“I don’t know, I’m sure. It just flashed into my mind. But do you think so? Sir Robert didn’t ’phone to you, did he?”

“No. And I don’t know what to think about Lady Rawson. Oh, bother the papers; let’s forget all about them—for to-day, anyhow! I say, beloved, it doesn’t seem possible that we’re really married and off on our honeymoon, does it?”

She laughed, softly and shyly, and again the shadow fled for a time. What did anything matter save the fact that they were together, with all the world before them?

“Why don’t you smoke?” she asked presently. “I’m sure you’re dying for a cigarette, you poor boy; and I don’t believe you had anything to eat at the house—it was all such a fluster. We’ll have tea in the train, if George Winston has the sense to order a tea-basket for us.”