a fire, when you can't extinguish it?" said Sir
Patrick. "You let it blaze till it goes out. What do you do with a woman
when you can't pacify her? Let _her_ blaze till she goes out."

Arnold failed to see the wisdom embodied in that excellent advice. "I
thought you would have helped me to put things right with Blanche," he
said.

"I _am_ helping you. Let Blanche alone. Don't speak of the marriage
again, the next time you see her. If she mentions it, beg her pardon,
and tell her you won't press the question any more. I shall see her in
an hour or two, and I shall take exactly the same tone myself. You have
put the idea into her mind--leave it there to ripen. Give her distress
about Miss Silvester nothing to feed on. Don't stimulate it by
contradiction; don't rouse it to defend itself by disparagement of her
lost friend. Leave Time to edge her gently nearer and nearer to the
husband who is waiting for her--and take my word for it, Time will have
her ready when the settlements are ready."

Toward the luncheon hour Sir Patrick saw Blanche, and put in practice
the principle which he had laid down. She was perfectly tranquil before
her uncle left her. A little later, Arnold was forgiven. A little later
still, the old gentleman's sharp observation noted that his niece was
unusually thoughtful, and that she looked at Arnold, from time to time,
with an interest of a new kind--an interest which shyly hid itself
from Arnold's view. Sir Patrick went up to dress for dinner, with a
comfortable inner conviction that the difficulties which had beset him
were settled at last. Sir Patrick had never been more mistaken in his
life.

The business of the toilet was far advanced. Duncan had just placed the
glass in a good light; and Duncan's master was at that turning point in
his daily life which consisted in attaining, or not attaining, absolute
perfection in the tying of his white cravat--when some outer barbarian,
ignorant of the first principles of dressing a gentleman's throat,
presumed to knock at the bedroom door. Neither master nor servant moved
or breathed until the integrity of the cravat was placed beyond the
reach of accident. Then Sir Patrick cast the look of final criticism in
the glass, and breathed again when he saw that it was done.

"A little labored in style, Duncan. But not bad, considering the
interruption?"

"By no means, Sir Patrick."

"See who it is."

Duncan went to the door; and returned, to his master, w