ourself. No man of ordinary
intelligence could do otherwise. But I had been wanting to make your
acquaintance all the evening, and no one would be kind enough to present
me. So I took the first opportunity that occurred, trusting to the end to
justify the means."

"But why have you told me?" she said.

"Because I think you are a woman who appreciates the truth."

"I am," she said. "But I do not often hear it as I have heard it
to-night"

He put out his hand to her impulsively. "Say, Lady Carfax, let me go and
kick that old scandal-monger into the middle of next week!"

Involuntarily almost she gave her hand in return. "No, you mustn't," she
said, laughing faintly. "The fault was ours. You know the ancient adage
about listeners. We deserved it all."

"Don't talk about deserts!" he exclaimed, with unexpected vehemence. "He
doesn't deserve to have a whole bone left in his body for speaking of you
so. Neither do I for suffering it in my presence!"

She freed her hand gently. "You could not have done otherwise. Believe
me, I am not altogether sorry that you were with me when it happened. It
is just as well that you should know the truth, and I could not have told
it you myself. Come, shall we go down?"

"Wait a minute!" he said. "Let me know how I stand with you first. Have
you decided to pass over that lie of mine, or are you going to cut me
next time we meet?"

"I shall not cut you," she said.

"You are going to acknowledge me then with the coldest of nods, which is
even more damnable," he returned, with gloomy conviction.

She hesitated for an instant. Then, "Mr. Errol," she said gently, "will
you believe me when I say that, however I treat you in the future, that
lie of yours will in no way influence me? You have helped me much more
than you realise by your trifling to-night. I am not sure that you meant
to do so. But I am grateful to you all the same."

"Then we are friends?" said Nap, quickly.

"Yes, we are friends; but it is very unlikely that we shall meet again. I
cannot invite you to call."

"And you won't call either on my mother?" he asked.

"I am afraid not."

He was silent a moment. Then, "So let it be!" he said. "But I fancy we
shall meet again notwithstanding. So _au revoir_, Lady Carfax! Can you
find your own way down?"

She understood in an instant the motive that prompted the question, and
the impulse to express her appreciation of it would not be denied. She
extended her hand with an