, and then said
quietly, "Now, then, go ahead."

"Well, Savile, it's too dreadful, and I _will_ confide in you. Last
night"--Sylvia began talking very volubly--"that horrid old brute--you
know, the Greek--asked Frank, Mr. Woodville, to dinner, and actually had
the impertinence to offer him a sort of post in a bank, starting at
L2000 a year, at Athens. ATHENS! Do you hear? It's in Greece."

"Don't rub it in. This is no time for geography. What else?"

"Well, it was on these conditions. Frank was to go for a year, and all
that time the _fiend_ has given word of honour never to come and see me,
or anything, and if at the end of the year Frank and I are still both
the same, _he_ will give it up--about me, I mean--and get Frank the same
sort of berth in London. And if we're not--just fancy making such a
horrible proposition! At Willis's, too!"

"Well, what's the matter with Willis's? Would it have been all right at
the 'Cheshire Cheese'?"

"What's the 'Cheshire Cheese'?"

"Never mind," said Savile mysteriously. (He didn't know.) "And if you're
_not_ still the same?"

"Oh, _then_"--she began to cry again--"of course the wretch thinks there
might be a chance for him. He _must_ be mad, mustn't he? But the
horrible part is that Frank actually thinks of _going_! Fancy! How
_degrading_! To accept a favour from my enemy! Isn't Ridokanaki exactly
like Machiavelli?"

"Mac who? I see nothing Scotch in the offer. But if he were the living
image of Robert Bruce or Robinson Crusoe, that's not the point. Now
let's have it straight. Would you marry him in any case?"

"Absolutely never," flashed Sylvia, showing all the celebrated family
obstinacy by her beautiful set mouth, "I'd rather----"

"Never mind what you'd rather. _I know_ what you'd rather, thanks very
much. All right, you mean it. Cross him out. And now we know where we
are."

"But still I'm afraid ... you don't seem to think I ought to marry Mr.
Woodville, do you?"

"Not that exactly," said Savile. "But I think the man who's been making
love to my sister ought to marry _her_. What's more, he's got to."

"Oh, Savile, how can you! Don't you think he cares for me?"

"Off the rails as usual! Yes, I do think so, but it doesn't matter a
straw what my thoughts are. It matters what's going to be done."

"But what can be done? Unless he goes away to Athens, I mean."

"Great Scott!" exclaimed Savile, starting up. "What's the use of all his
friends--Chetwode, and Mervyn,