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Carlyon, lying back in his chair, neither stirred nor spoke. He looked up at Derrick from beneath steady eyelids. But he offered him nothing in return for his insulting words.

Derrick waited for seconds. Then patience and resolution alike failed him. He swung round abruptly on his heel and walked out of the room.

As for Colonel Carlyon, he did not rise from his chair till he had conscientiously finished his cigar. He had stuck to his principles. He had not answered his critic. Incidentally he had borne more from that critic than any man had ever before dared to offer him, more than he had told Derrick himself that he would bear. Yet Derrick had gone away from the encounter with a whole skin in order that Colonel Carlyon might stick to his principles. Carlyon’s forbearance was a plant of peculiar growth.

V

A WOMAN’S FORGIVENESS

“Colonel Carlyon,” said Averil, turning to face him fully, her eyes very bright, “will you take the trouble to make me understand about Derrick? I have been awaiting an opportunity to ask you ever since I heard about it.”

Carlyon paused. They chanced to be staying simultaneously in the house of a mutual friend. He had arrived only the previous evening, and till that moment had scarcely spoken to the girl.

Carlyon smothered an involuntary sigh. He could have wished that this girl, with her straight eyes and honest speech, would have spared him the explanation which she had made such speed to demand of him.

“Make you understand, Miss Eversley!” he said, halting deliberately before a bookcase. “What exactly is it that you do not understand?”

“Everything,” Averil said, with a comprehensive gesture. “I have always believed that you thought more of Derrick than anything else in the world.”

“Ah!” said Carlyon quietly. “That is probably the root of the misunderstanding. Correct that, and the rest will be comparatively easy.”

He took a book from the shelf before him and ran a quick eye through its pages. After a brief pause he put the volume back and joined the girl on the hearthrug.

“Is my behaviour still an enigma?” he said, with a slight smile.

She turned to him impulsively. “Of course,” she said, colouring vividly, “I am aware that to a celebrated man like you the opinion of a nobody like myself cannot matter one straw. But–“

“Pardon me!” Carlyon gravely. “Even celebrated men are human, you know. They have their feelings like the rest of mankind. I shall be sorry to forfeit your good opinion. But I have no means of retaining it. Derrick cannot see my point of view. You, of course, will share his difficulties.”

“That does not follow, does it?” said Averil.

“I should say so,” said Carlyon. “You see, Miss Eversley, you have already told me that you do not understand my action. Non-comprehension in such a matter is synonymous with disapproval. You are, no doubt, in full possession of the facts. More than the bare facts I cannot give you. I will not attempt to justify myself where I admit no guilt.”

“No,” Averil said. “Pray don’t think I am asking you to do anything of the sort! Only, Colonel Carlyon,” she laid a pleading hand on his arm and lifted a very anxious face, “you remember we used to be friends, if you will allow the presumption of such a term. Won’t you even try to show me your point of view in this matter? I think I could understand. I want to understand.”

Carlyon leant his elbow on the mantelpiece and looked very gravely into the girl’s troubled eyes.

“You are very generous, Averil,” he said.

“Generous,” she echoed, with a touch of impatience. “No; I only want to be just–for my own sake. I hate to take a narrow, cramped view of things. I hate that Dick should. A few words from you would set us both right, and we could all be friends again.”

“Ah!” said Carlyon. “But suppose–I have nothing to say?”