"What a shame!" she began--and then a stupid lump came in her throat,
and Randal saw the change in her face.

"My dear," he said, "you mustn't. I'm all right. Believe me, if it does
hurt a little, it won't spoil things for me as it might for a young
fellow. The world's a very interesting place, and I'm going to be jolly
in it, just the same."

He looked at her for a moment anxiously.

"Be jolly too--there's a good girl. And, I say," he added with simple
eagerness, "you won't go running away from here to some dreadful aunt,
will you?"

"I'll stay just as long as you and father want me to," she replied; but,
finding speech difficult, finished with the best smile she could
command, and went down the stair, avoiding Dick and seeking refuge in
Randal's study.

There the tears overcame her--though she tried to hide from herself
their full reason.

Randal she had known for many weeks, and for Randal she was indeed
tenderly grieved; but the other man, with his abruptness, his humour,
and his lurking intensity, she had first seen the day before yesterday;
and although she knew nothing of Mr. Richard Bellamy's opinion of
herself, and admitted in regard to her own future no more than that she
found him interesting, she was too well aware to deny, even to herself,
that he had pushed his brother out of his chance.

To say this, she told herself, was but to confess that the younger man
had unconsciously reminded her of possibilities and dangers; but it
seemed to be not only unkind but unjust that Sir Randal's misfortune
should arise out of the very eagerness of his affection for this weird
brother of his.

And then her father! He had said nothing, implied nothing, but she
foresaw disappointment.

It was all rotten, and the tears flowed.

Then came that hand on her shoulder, whose touch, although they had
never, she remembered, even shaken hands, she knew before lifting her
eyes to his.

When he had left her, although her tears were soon dry, she felt a
curious restlessness of mind, and what she would have called "an excited
tiredness," and she stretched her body on the cushions of the settee for
a moment's relaxation, which slipped at once into half an hour's sleep.

A whisper awoke her. She raised her head. The voice was behind her.
Cautiously, kept silent between fear and curiosity, she rose and turned
her face to the alcove.

A man was there, with his back towards her--not one of her men. His
clothes were gre