to his wife.

"And of course I haven't," she returned--not at all in this case,
plainly, for herself. "But I know it. He'd like her if he could, but he
can't. That," Mrs. Brook wound up, "is what makes it sure."

There was at last in Edward's gravity a positive pathos. "Sure he won't
propose?"

"Sure Mr. Longdon won't now throw her over."

"Of course if it IS sure--"

"Well?"

"Why, it is. But of course if it isn't--"

"Well?"

"Why, she won't have anything. Anything but US," he continued to
reflect. "Unless, you know, you're working it on a certainty--!"

"That's just what I AM working it on. I did nothing till I knew I was
safe."

"'Safe'?" he ambiguously echoed while on this their eyes met longer.

"Safe. I knew he'd stick."

"But how did you know Van wouldn't?"

"No matter 'how'--but better still. He hasn't stuck." She said it very
simply, but she turned away from him.

His eyes for a little followed her. "We don't KNOW, after all, the old
boy's means."

"I don't know what you mean by 'we' don't. Nanda does."

"But where's the support if she doesn't tell us?"

Mrs. Brook, who had faced about, again turned from him. "I hope you
don't forget," she remarked with superiority, "that we don't ask her."

"YOU don't?" Edward gloomed.

"Never. But I trust her."

"Yes," he mused afresh, "one must trust one's child. Does Van?" he then
enquired.

"Does he trust her?"

"Does he know anything of the general figure?"

She hesitated. "Everything. It's high."

"He has told you so?"

Mrs. Brook, supremely impatient now, seemed to demur even to the
question. "We ask HIM even less."

"Then how do we know?"

She was weary of explaining. "Because that's just why he hates it."

There was no end however, apparently, to what Edward could take. "But
hates what?"

"Why, not liking her."

Edward kept his back to the fire and his dead eyes on the cornice and
the ceiling. "I shouldn't think it would be so difficult."

"Well, you see it isn't. Mr. Longdon can manage it."

"I don't see what the devil's the matter with her," he coldly continued.

"Ah that may not prevent--! It's fortunately the source at any rate of
half Mr. Longdon's interest."

"But what the hell IS it?" he drearily demanded.

She faltered a little, but she brought it out. "It's ME."

"And what's the matter with 'you'?"

She made, at this, a movement that drew his eyes to her own, and for a
moment she dimly smiled at him. "That'