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“You’re not going to desert us already?” said Hyde; still, as she felt, mocking her with his smile. “It will be dark, indeed, when Hope is withdrawn.”

He went to the door, but paused with his hand upon it. She looked at him with the wild shrinking of a trapped creature in her eyes.

“Never mind,” he laughed softly; “I am very tenacious. Even now–you will scarcely believe it–I still have–Hope!”

He opened the door with the words, and, as she passed through in unbroken silence, her face as white as marble, there was something in his words, something of self-assured power, almost of menace, that struck upon her like a breath of evil. She would have stayed and defied him had she dared. But somehow, inexplicably, she was afraid.

VII

THE SCRAPE

Very late that night there came a low knock at Hope’s door. She was lying awake, and she instantly started up on her elbow.

“Who is it?” she called.

The door opened softly, and Ronnie answered her.

“I thought you would like to say good-night, Hope,” he said.

“Oh, come in, dear!” Hope sat up eagerly. She had not expected this attention from Ronnie. “I’m wide awake. I’m so glad you came!”

He slipped into the room, and, reaching her, bent to kiss her; then, as she clung closely to him, he sat down on the edge of her bed.

“I’m sorry Hyde annoyed you,” he said.

She leaned her head against him, and was silent.

“It’ll be a good thing for you when you’re married,” Ronnie went on presently. “Baring will take better care of you than I do.”

Something in his tone went straight to her heart. Her clinging arms tightened, but still she was silent. For what he said was unanswerable.

When he spoke again, she felt it was with an effort.

“Baring came round to-night to see you. I went out and spoke to him. I told him you had gone to bed, and so he didn’t come in. I was glad he didn’t. Hyde was there, and they don’t hit it particularly well. In fact–” he hesitated. “I would rather he didn’t know Hyde was here. Baring’s a good chap–the best in the world. He’s done no end for me; more than I can ever tell you. But he’s awfully hard in some ways. I can’t tell him everything. He doesn’t always understand.”

Again there sounded in his voice that faint, wistful note that so smote upon Hope’s heart. She drew nearer to him, her cheek against his shoulder.

“Oh, Ronnie,” she said, and her voice quivered passionately, “never think that of me, dear! Never think that I can’t understand!”

He kissed her forehead.

“Bless you, old girl!” he whispered huskily.

“My marriage will make no difference–no difference,” she insisted. “You and I will still be to each other what we have always been. There will be the same trust between us, the same confidence. Rather than lose that, I will never marry at all!”

She spoke with vehemence, but Ronnie was not carried away by it.

“Baring will have the right to know all your secrets,” he said gloomily.

“Oh, no, no!” exclaimed Hope impulsively. “He would never expect that. He knows that we are twins, and there is no tie in the world that is quite like that.”

Ronnie was silent, but she felt that it was not the silence of acquiescence. She took him by the shoulders and made him face her.

“Ronnie,” she said very earnestly, “if you will only tell me things, and let me help you where I can, I swear to you–I swear to you most solemnly–that I will never betray your confidence to Monty, or to any one else: I know that he would never ask it of me; but even if he did–even if he did–I would not do it.” She spoke so steadfastly, so loyally, that he was strongly moved. He thrust his arm boyishly round her.

“All right, dear old girl, I trust you,” he said. “I’ll tell you all about it. As I see you have guessed, there is a bit of a scrape; but it will be all right in two or three weeks. I’ve been a fool, and got into debt again. Baring helped me out once. That’s partly why I’m so particularly anxious that he shouldn’t get wind of it this time. Fact is, I’m very much in Hyde’s power for the time being. But, as I say, it will be all right before long. I’ve promised to ride his Waler for the Ghantala Valley Cup next month. It’s a pretty safe thing, and if I pull it off, as I intend to do, everything will be cleared, and I shall be out of his hands. It’s a sort of debt of honour, you see. I can’t get out of it, but I shall be jolly glad when it’s over. We’ll chuck him then, if he isn’t civil. But till then I’m more or less helpless. So you’ll do your best to tolerate him for my sake, won’t you?”