mes.

"... That the accident was _our_ fault, and that it was _her_ duty to
make it up to him."

"Of course she has. What did you suppose?"

"I supposed she might have--a--fallen in love with him. I thought you
thought so, too, from what you said."

"My dear Alexander, shall I never make you understand?" Her ladyship
only used the long inconvenient name to emphasize rhetoric, which she
did also in this instance by making every note _staccato_. "Gwen, has,
fallen, in, love, with, Mr. Torrens, because, we, _did it_? _Now_ do you
see?"

"She has a--mixture of motives, in fact?"

"Absolutely none whatever! She's over head and ears in love with him
_because_ his eyes are out. No other reason in life! What earthly good
do you think the child thinks she could do him if she _didn't_ love him?
Men will never understand girls if they live till Doomsday."

The Earl did not grapple with the problems this suggested; but
reflected, while her ladyship waited explicitly. At last he said:--"It
certainly appears to me that if Gwen's ... predilection for this man
depends in any degree on a mistaken conviction of duty, the only course
open to us is to--to temporise--to deprecate rash actions and
undertakings. Under the circumstances it would be impossible to condemn
or find fault with either. It is perfectly inconceivable that poor
Torrens--should have--should have taken any initiative...."

"Oh, my dear, what nonsense! Of course, Gwen did that. She proposed to
him when I was away at the flower-show...."

"Philippa--how _can_ you? How would such a thing be _possible_?
Really--_really!_ ..."

"Well, _really really_ as much as you like, but any woman could propose
to a blind man--a little way off, certainly--only I don't know that Gwen
..." However, the Countess stopped short of her daughter's reference to
a respectful distance and card-leaving.

It was at this point that Gwen and Irene were audible on the stairs,
suggesting the lateness of the hour. The Earl said:--"I think I shall go
and see Torrens as soon as there's quiet. I have gone to him every
evening till now. I may speak to him about this." To which her ladyship
replied:--"Now mind you put your foot down. What I am always afraid of
with you is indecision." He made no answer, but listened, waiting for
the last disappearance couchwards. Then he went to his room for his
hand-lamp, as described, and after satisfying himself about that
conflagration's non-existence, was ju