den seriousness.

Nelly shook her head, smiling.

'I don't know! But--Cicely's worth a deal of trouble.'

He assented with a mixture of fervour and depression.

'We've known each other since we were boy and girl. That's what makes
the difficulty, perhaps. We know each other too well. When she was a
child of fourteen, I was already in the Guards, and I used to try and
tackle her--because no one else would. Her father was dead. Her mother
had no influence with her; and Willy was too lazy. So I tried my hand.
And I find myself doing the same thing now. But of course it's
fatal--it's fatal!'

Nelly tried to cheer him up, but she was not herself very hopeful. She,
perceived too clearly the martinet in him and the rebel in Cicely. If
something were suddenly to throw them together, some common interest or
emotion, each might find the other's heart in a way past undoing. On the
other hand the jarring habit, once set up, has a way of growing worse,
and reducing everything else to dust and ashes. Finally she wound up
with a timid but emphatic counsel.

'Please--please--don't be sarcastic.'

He looked injured.

'I never am!'

Nelly laughed.

'You don't know when you are. And be very nice to her this afternoon.'

'How can I, if she shews me at once that I'm unwelcome? You haven't
answered my question.'

He was standing ready for departure. Nelly's face changed--became all
sad and tender pity.

'You must ask it yourself!' she said eagerly, 'Go on asking it. It would
be too--too dreadful, wouldn't it?--to miss everything--by being proud,
or offended, for nothing----'

'What do you mean by everything?'

'You know,' she said, after a moment, shielding her eyes as they looked
into the fire; 'I'm sure you know. It _is_ everything.'

As he walked back to the cottage, he found himself speculating not so
much about his own case as about his friend's. Willy was certainly in
love. And Nelly Sarratt was as softly feminine as Cicely was mannish
and strong. But he somehow did not feel that Willy's chances were any
safer than his own.

A car arrived at one o'clock bringing Cicely, much wrapped up in fur
coat and motor-veils. She came impetuously into the sitting-room, and
seemed to fill it. It took some time to peel her and reduce her to the
size of an ordinary mortal. She then appeared in a navy-blue coat and
skirt, with navy-blue boots buttoned almost to the knees. The skirt was
immensely full and immensely short. When th