hat they wouldn't have time to
stop me. But I didn't begin with the bursting sun, or even with the
beating that Bertie was enjoying in the woods; I began with the Princess
Boriskoff, and Lady Kilmarny; and I addressed Sir Samuel, from beginning
to end. Somehow, I felt I had his sympathy, even when I rushed at the
most embarrassing part, which concerned his stepson and the necktie.

Just as I'd told about the brooch, and Bertie's threat, and was coming
to his punishment, another knock at the door produced the two young men,
both pale, but Jack with a noble pallor, while Bertie's was the sick
paleness of pain and shame.

"I've brought him to apologize to Miss d'Angely, in your presence, Sir
Samuel, and Lady Turnour's," said the chauffeur. "I see you know
something of the story."

"They know all now," said I. For Bertie's face proved the truth of my
words, if they had needed proof. His eyes were swimming in tears, and he
looked like a whipped school-boy.

But suddenly a whim roused her ladyship to speak up in his defence--or
at least to criticize the chauffeur for presuming to take her stepson's
chastisement into his hands.

"What right have you to set yourself up as Elise's champion, anyway?"
she demanded, shrilly. "Have you and she been getting engaged to each
other behind our backs?"

"It would be my highest happiness to be engaged to Miss d'Angely if she
would marry me," said Jack, with such a splendidly sincere ring in his
voice that I could almost have believed him if I hadn't known he was in
love with another woman. "But I am no match for her. It's only as her
friend that I have acted in her defence, as any decent man has a right
to act when a lady is insulted."

Then Bertie apologized, in a dull voice, with his eyes on the ground,
and mumbled a kind of confession, mixed with self-justification. He had
pocketed the brooch, yes, meaning to play a trick, but had intended no
harm, only a little fun--pretty girl--lady's-maids didn't usually mind a
bit of a flirtation and a present or two; how was he to know this one
was different? Sorry if he had caused annoyance; could say no more--and
so on, and so on, until I stopped him, having heard enough.

Poor Sir Samuel was crestfallen, but not too utterly crushed to reproach
his bride with unwonted sharpness, when she would have scolded me for
carelessness in not putting the brooch away. "Let the girl alone!" he
grumbled, "she's a very good girl, and has behaved well.