ns with regard to Anne
were frankly shameful. And Jervaise must, indeed, be an even grosser fool
than I supposed him to be if he could believe for one instant that Anne
was the sort of woman who would stoop to a common intrigue with him. For
it could be nothing more than that. If they loved each other, they could
do no less than follow the shining example of Brenda and Anne's brother. I
could see Anne doing that, and with a still more daring spirit than the
other couple had so far displayed. I could not see her as Frank Jervaise's
mistress. Moreover, I could not believe now, even after that morning's
scene in the wood, that she really cared for him. If she did, she must
have been an actress of genius, since, so far as I had been able to
observe, her attitude towards him during the last half-hour had most
nearly approached one of slightly amused contempt.

Jervaise's evident perplexity was notably aggravated by Anne's question.

"Well, naturally, my father and mother don't want an open scandal," he
said irritably.

"But why a scandal?" asked Anne. "If Arthur and Brenda were married and
went to Canada?"

"I don't say that _I_ think it would be a scandal," he said. "I'm only
telling you the way that _they'd_ certainly see it. It might have been
different if your brother had never been in our service. You must see
that. _We_ know, of course, but other people don't, and we shall never be
able to explain to them. People like the Turnbulls and the Atkinsons and
all that lot will say that Brenda eloped with the chauffeur. It's no good
beating about the bush--that's the plain fact we've got to face."

"Then, hadn't we better face it?" Anne returned with a flash of
indignation. "Or do you think you can persuade Arthur to go back to
Canada, alone?"

Jervaise grunted uneasily.

"You know it's no earthly, Frank," Brenda said. "Why can't you be a sport
and go back and tell them that they might as well give in at once?"

"Oh! my dear girl, you must know perfectly well that they'll _never_ give
in," her brother replied.

"Mr. Jervaise might," Banks put in.

Frank turned to him sharply. "What do you mean by that?" he asked.

"He'd have given in this morning, if it hadn't been for you," Banks said,
staring with his most dogged expression at Jervaise.

"What makes you think so?" Jervaise retaliated.

"What he said, and the way he behaved," Banks asserted, the English yeoman
stock in him still very apparent.

"You're mista