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“I am not thinking of myself,” she told him, with vehemence. “Of course, it would make everything right for me, so long as Jim knew. But I must think of you, too. I must—-“

“You needn’t,” Cheveril said gently; “you needn’t. I have asked to be allowed to stand by you, to have the great privilege of calling myself your friend in need. I am romantic enough to like to see a love affair go the right way. It is for my pleasure, if you care to regard it from that point of view.” He paused, and into his eyes there came a queer, watchful expression–the look of a man who hazards much, yet holds himself in check. Then he smiled at her with baffling humour.

“Don’t refuse me my opportunity, Miss Harford,” he said. “I know I am eccentric, but I assure you I can be a staunch friend to those I like.”

Evelyn had risen, and as he ended he also got to his feet. He knew that she was studying him with all her woman’s keenness of perception. But the game was in his hands, and he realised it. He was no longer afraid of the issue.

“You offer me this out of friendship?” she said at last.

He watched her fingers nervously playing with a bracelet on her wrist.

“Exactly,” he said.

Her eyes met his resolutely.

“Mr. Cheveril,” she said (and though she spoke quietly, it was with an effort), “I want you, please, to answer just one question. You have been shown all the cards; but there must–there shall be–fair play, in spite of it.”

Her voice rang a little. The bracelet suddenly slipped from her hand and fell to the floor. Cheveril stooped and picked it up. He held it as he made reply.

“Yes,” he said, “I like fair play, too.”

“Then you will tell me the truth?” she said, holding out her hand for her property. “I want to know if–if you were really going to ask me to marry you before this happened?”

He looked at her with raised eyebrows. Then he took the extended hand.

“Of course I was!” he said simply. She drew back a little, but Cheveril showed no discomfiture. “You see, I’m getting on in life,” he said, in a patriarchal tone. “No doubt it was rank presumption on my part to imagine myself in any way suited to you; but I thought it would be nice to have a young wife to look after me. And you know the proverb about ‘an old man’s darling.’ I believe I rather counted on that.”

Again he looked quizzical; but the girl was not satisfied.

“That’s ridiculous!” she said. “You talk as if you were fifty years older than you are. It may be funny, but it isn’t strictly honest.”

Cheveril laughed.

“I know what you mean,” he said. “But really I’m not being funny. And I am telling you the simple truth when I say that all sentimental nonsense was knocked out of me long ago, when the girl I cared for ran away with a good-looking beast in the Army. Also, I am quite honest when I assure you that I would rather be your trusted friend and accomplice than your rejected suitor. By Jove, I seem to be asking a good deal of you!”

“No, don’t laugh,” she said quickly, almost as if something in his careless speech had pained her. “We must look at the matter from every stand-point before–before we take any action. Suppose you really did want to marry some one? Suppose you fell in love again? What then?”

“What then?” said Cheveril. And, though he was obligingly serious, she felt that somehow, somewhere, he was tricking her. “I should have to ask you to release me in that event. But I don’t think it’s very likely that will happen. I’m not so impressionable as I was.”

She looked at him doubtfully. Obviously he was not in love with her, yet she was uneasy. She had a curious sense of loss, of disappointment, which even Jim’s departure had not created in her.