reminded Mrs. Lascelles that the first person
I had spoken to was also the greatest gossip in the hotel. She paid no
attention to the remark, but stood looking at me again, with the look
that I could never quite see to read.

"And then," she went on, "you found out who it was, and you remembered
all about me, and your worst fears were confirmed. That must have been
an interesting moment. I wonder how you felt.... Did it never occur to
you to speak plainly to anybody?"

"I wasn't going to give you away," I said, stolidly, though with no
conscious parade of virtue.

"Yet, you see, it would have made no difference if you had! Did you
seriously think it would make much difference, Captain Clephane, to a
really chivalrous young man?" I bowed my head to the well-earned taunt.
"But," she went on, "there was no need for you to speak to Mr. Evers.
You might have spoken to me. Why did you not do that?"

"Because I didn't want to quarrel with you," I answered quite honestly;
"because I enjoyed your society too much myself."

"That was very nice of you," said Mrs. Lascelles, with a sudden although
subtle return of the good-nature which had always attracted me. "If it
is sincere," she added, as an apparent afterthought.

"I am perfectly sincere now."

"Then what do you think I should do?" she asked me, in the soft new tone
which actually flattered me with the idea that she was making up her
mind to take my advice.

"Refuse this lad!"

"And then?" she almost whispered.

"And then--"

I hesitated. I found it hard to say what I thought, hard even upon
myself. We had been good friends. I admired the woman cordially; her
society was pleasant to me, as it always had been. Nevertheless, we had
just engaged in a duel of no friendly character; and now that we seemed
of a sudden to have become friends again, it was the harder to give her
the only advice which I considered compatible alike with my duty and the
varied demands of the situation. If she took it as she seemed disposed
to do, the immediate loss would be mine, and I foresaw besides a much
more disagreeable reckoning with Bob Evers than the one now approaching
an amicable conclusion. I should have to stay behind to face the music
of his wrath alone. Still, at the risk of appearing brutal I made my
proposal in plain terms; but, to minimise that risk, I ventured to take
the lady's hand and was glad to find the familiarity permitted in the
same friendly spirit in which it