'I'm in love with another woman--that is----' and for a
longer pause his way became quite invisible--'I've been in love with
another woman for years.'

'You mean Miss Jakes,' said Miss Buchanan. 'Helen told me about it. But
does that interfere? Helen isn't likely to be in love with you or to
expect you to be in love with her. And the woman you've loved for years
is going to marry some one else. It's not as if you had any hope.'

There was pain for Franklin in this reasonable speech, but he could not
see clearly where it lay; curiously, it did not seem to centre on that
hopelessness as regarded Althea. He could see nothing clearly, and there
was no time for self-examination. 'No,' he agreed. 'No, that's true.
It's not as if I had any hope.'

'I think Helen worthy of any man alive,' said Miss Buchanan, 'and yet,
under the strange circumstances, I know that what I'm asking of you is
an act of chivalry. I want to see Helen safe, and I think she would be
safe with you.'

Franklin flushed still more deeply. 'Yes, I think she would,' he said.
He paused then, again, trying to think, and what he found first was a
discomfort in the way she had put it. 'It wouldn't be an act of
chivalry,' he said. 'Don't think that. I care for Miss Helen too much
for that. It's all the other way round, you know. I mean'--he brought
out--'I don't believe she'd think of taking me.'

Miss Grizel's eyes were on him, and it may have been their gaze that
made him feel the discomfort. She seemed to be seeing something that
evaded him. 'I don't look like a husband for a decorative idler, do I,
Miss Buchanan?' he tried to smile.

Her eyes, with their probing keenness, smiled back. 'You mayn't look
like one, but you are one, with your millions,' she said. 'And I believe
Helen might think of taking you. She has had plenty of time to outgrow
youthful dreams. She's tired. She wants ease and security. She needs a
husband, and she doesn't need a lover at all. She would get power, and
you would get a charming wife--a woman, moreover, whom you care for and
respect--as she does you; and you would get a home and children. I
imagine that you care for children. Decorative idler though she is,
Helen would make an excellent mother.'

'Yes, I care very much for children,' Franklin murmured, not
confused--pained, rather, by this unveiling of his inner sanctities.

'Of course,' Miss Buchanan went on, 'you wouldn't want Helen to live out
of England. Of course you