tupefied thanksgiving before the same rush that had
brought him in carried him to Allida. He fell on his knees before her.
Clasping her round the waist, he hid his face, crying, "Thank God!"

Allida sat, still holding her pen. She did not look at Ainslie, but
across the room at Haldicott, and again, before her look, as of one
confronted with her own utter inadequacy to deal with the situation,
Haldicott could almost have laughed. But the moment for light
interpretations had gone. Anything amusing in the present situation was
only grimly so for him. The fairy prince had turned up--a real fairy
prince, for a wonder, and three hours of everyday reality had no chance
of counting against a year of fairy-tale with such a lasting chapter.
After all, it was very beautiful; he was able to see that, thank
goodness! Yet Allida's perfectly blank look held him. She was evidently
unable to deal single-handed with her dilemma--to explain to her fairy
prince why he found her alive rather than dead. Haldicott turned to the
mantelpiece and moved, unseeingly, the idiotic silver ornaments upon it,
waiting for an opportunity to strike a blow for her deliverance.

Ainslie had lifted his face to hers.

"It was a mistake, that announcement: it's my cousin who is to be
married; we have the same name. Oh, Allida! darling Allida! if I had not
come in time! That I should have found you--_you_! And only just in
time!"

He became now, perhaps from the blankness of her face, aware more fully
of Haldicott's unobtrusive presence.

To the silent query of his eyes she answered:

"He knows--everything."

"He prevented you! He met you and prevented you! I see it all.
Haldicott, it _is_ you, isn't it----"

Haldicott reluctantly turned to him.

"My dear fellow, can I ever thank you enough? My dear Haldicott, it's
all too astonishing. You know? And _why_ she was going to? The poor,
darling child!" He had risen, and, with his arm around Allida's
shoulders, was gazing at her.

"I saw Miss Fraser posting her letter to you, and guessed from her
expression that something very bad was up," said Haldicott. "I forced
her to walk a little with me, and I made her tell me the story; and then
I made her see that the truer love for you would be shown in living. She
had just recognised that,"--Haldicott smiled at her,--"and she was going
to write, and see if she couldn't waylay that letter--spare you the pain
of it and, at all events, tell you that she wasn't g