ould know what to do. And when they had him at Valleys
House, the moment he showed interest in his food, down to the sea-down
to the sea! At this time of year nothing like it! Then with regard
to nourishment, he would be inclined already to shove in a leetle
stimulant, a thimbleful perhaps four times a day with food--not
without--mixed with an egg, with arrowroot, with custard. A week would
see him on his legs, a fortnight at the sea make him as good a man as
ever. Overwork--burning the candle--a leetlemore would have seen a very
different state of things! Quite so! quite so! Would come round himself
before dinner, and make sure. His patient might feel it just at first!
He bowed Lady Valleys out; and when she had gone, sat down at his
telephone with a smile flickering on his clean-cut lips.

Greatly fortified by this interview, Lady Valleys rejoined her daughter
in the ear; but while it slid on amongst the multitudinous traffic,
signs of unwonted nervousness began to start out through the placidity
of her face.

"I wish, my dear," she said suddenly, "that someone else had to do this.
Suppose Eustace refuses!"

"He won't," Barbara answered; "she looks so tired, poor dear.
Besides----"

Lady Valleys gazed with curiosity at that young face, which had flushed
pink. Yes, this daughter of hers was a woman already, with all a woman's
intuitions. She said gravely:

"It was a rash stroke of yours, Babs; let's hope it won't lead to
disaster."

Barbara bit her lips.

"If you'd seen him as I saw him! And, what disaster? Mayn't they love
each other, if they want?"

Lady Valleys swallowed a grimace. It was so exactly her own point of
view. And yet----!

"That's only the beginning," she said; "you forget the sort of boy
Eustace is."

"Why can't the poor thing be let out of her cage?" cried Barbara. "What
good does it do to anyone? Mother, if ever, when I am married, I want to
get free, I will!"

The tone of her voice was so quivering, and unlike the happy voice of
Barbara, that Lady Valleys involuntarily caught hold of her hand and
squeezed it hard.

"My dear sweet," she said, "don't let's talk of such gloomy things."

"I mean it. Nothing shall stop me."

But Lady Valleys' face had suddenly become rather grim.

"So we think, child; it's not so simple."

"It can't be worse, anyway," muttered Barbara, "than being buried alive
as that wretched woman is."

For answer Lady Valleys only murmured:

"The doctor promi