mbly, she told herself in a
general way that things would soon shake down again, that it was
probably her fault, and that she must make sure what Mr. Alison had
really meant. This time she would keep him to it and not let him drift
off to Madonnas. She wished he would make haste and call. Why had she
lent him all that stuff about Virginia? He was probably wondering what
on earth to say to her about it and that was why he did not call. What
a nuisance he was! She longed to ask him definitely what people really
thought of Hubert's work and whether he had meant all that. You never
really knew, with him....

When, however, he finally arrived, it was with such an air of
mysterious excitement that she was forced to wait a moment.

He stood in silence until Lily's heavy steps had died away and then, in
a stage whisper: "Is Hubert safely out of hearing?"

"Yes," she laughed. He always amused her when he was funny like this.
"He always works, you know quite well, from five till seven. I suppose
all this 'sshing is because you want to give me back my silly
manuscript. Where is it?" She was glad, in a way, that he was going
to be stupid over it.

"Ah," he replied, "that's it," and raised a cryptic finger.

"You _are_ funny," she said lazily from her armchair, like some one who
claps in the stalls.

He looked slightly hurt. "You always say that if I'm serious," he
protested. Then less plaintively, as though heartened by what was to
come: "As a matter of fact though, I've done you a very good turn."

"Me?" asked Helena, as he made an effective pause and there seemed
nothing else to say. She couldn't thank, in case it really was a joke.

"Yes, you. Your silly manuscript, as you like to call it, is
good--jolly good. I don't suppose you realise that, do you? It's
something original, these days, and that is everything. It's----"

"I'm glad it amused you," Helena said, thinking that he had quitted
himself well and now she must help him out; "but----"

"But where's the good turn?" he broke in, interpreting her wrongly.
"Well, I'll tell you. I showed it--I knew you wouldn't mind----" (and
here he looked a little timidly at her sideways), "I showed it to a
publisher I've met about, a very decent fellow----"

"How dare you?" Helena flashed out youthfully, just as though they were
playing Interruptions. "I lent it you to read and I think----"

He kept up the game. "Listen," he said with a firmness rare in him