ge it?"

"I didn't. That's the beauty of it. He managed it himself. He asked
me to have her down."

She let him take that in, too, in all its immense significance.

"Who is she?"

"Little Molly Milner--a niece of Nora Viveash's. He met her there
last winter."

Their eyes met, full of remembrance.

"If anybody managed it, it was Nora. Jimmy, do you know, that
woman's a perfect dear."

"I know you always said so."

"_He_ says so. He says she behaved like an angel, like a saint,
about it. When you think how she cared! I suppose she saw it was the
way to save him."

Straker was silent. He saw Nora Viveash as he had seen her on the
terrace two years ago, on the day of Philippa's arrival; and as she
had come to him afterward and asked him to stand by Furnival in his
bad hour.

"What is it like, Furny's Idea?" he asked presently.

"It's rather like Nora, only different. It's her niece, you know."

"If it's Nora's niece, it must be very young."

"It is. It's absurdly young. But, oh, so determined!"

"Has she by any chance got Nora's temperament?"

"She's got her own temperament," said Fanny.

Straker meditated on that.

"How does it take him?" he inquired.

"It takes him beautifully. It makes him very quiet, and a little
sad. That's why I think it's coming."

Fanny also meditated.

"Yes. It's coming. There's only one thing, Jimmy. Philippa's coming,
too. She's coming to-day, by that four-something train."

"My dear Fanny, how you _do_ mix 'em!"

It was his tribute to her enduring quality.

"I asked her before I knew Laurence Furnival was coming."

"_She_ knew?"

"I--I think so."

They looked at each other. Then Fanny spoke.

"Jimmy," she said, "do you think you could make love to Philippa?
Just, _just_," she entreated (when, indeed, had she not appealed to
him to save her from the consequences of her indiscretions?), "until
Furny goes?"

Straker's diplomatic reply was cut short by the appearance of
Laurence Furnival and Molly Milner, Nora's niece. They came down the
long terrace with the sun upon them. She was all in white, with here
and there a touch of delicate green. She was very young; and, yes,
she was very like Mrs. Viveash, with all the difference of her youth
and of her soul.

Furnival was almost pathetically pleased to see Straker there; and
Miss Milner, flushed but serene in the moment of introduction, said
that she had heard of Mr. Straker very often from--she hesitated,
and