“I reckin’ he j’ints is healin’ up,” said Letty.  “Dey tells me dat de healin’ pains mos’ gen’rally runs into de min’.”

About nine o’clock in the evening Junius Keswick paid Lawrence a visit; and, taking a seat by one side of the fireplace, accepted the offer of a cigar.

“How are things going on in the house?” asked Lawrence.

“Well,” said Keswick, speaking slowly, “as you know so much of our family affairs, I might as well tell you that they are in a somewhat upset condition.  When I went in, I saw, at first, no one but my cousin, and she seemed so extraordinarily glad to see me that I thought something must be wrong, somewhere; and when my aunt returned—­she was not at home when I arrived—­she was thrown into such a state of mind on seeing me, that I didn’t know whether she was going to order me out of the house or go herself.  But she restrained herself, wonderfully, considering her provocation, for, of course, I have entirely disordered her plans by appearing here, when she had arranged everything for you to have Miss March to yourself.  But, so far, the peace has been kept between us, although she scarcely speaks to me.”

“And Miss March?” said Lawrence.  “You have seen her?”

“Yes,” said Junius, “I saw her at supper, and for a short time afterwards, but she soon retired to her room.”

“Do you think she was disturbed by your return?” asked Lawrence.

“I won’t say that,” said Junius, “but she was certainly not herself.  Mrs Null tells me that she expects to go home to-morrow morning, having written to her uncle to send for her.”

“That is bad, bad, very bad,” said Lawrence.

After that there was a pause in the conversation, during which Mr Croft, with brows very much knit, gazed steadfastly into the fire.  “Mr Keswick,” he said presently, “what you tell me fills me with consternation.  It is quite plain that I shall have no chance to see Miss March, and, as there is no one else in the world who will do it for me, I am going to ask you to go to her, to-morrow morning, and speak to her in my behalf.”

When this had been said, Junius Keswick dropped his cigar upon the floor, and sat up very straight in his chair, gazing fixedly at Lawrence.  “Upon my word!” he said, “I knew you were a cool man, but that request freezes my imagination.  I cannot conceive how any man can ask another to try to win for him a lady whom he knows the other man desires to win for himself.  You have made some requests before that were rather astounding, but this one overshadows them all.”

“I admit,” said Lawrence, “that what I ask is somewhat out of the way, but you must consider the circumstances.  Suppose I had met you in mortal combat, and I had dropped my sword where you could reach it and I could not; would you pick it up and give it to me? or would you run me through?”

“I don’t think that comparison is altogether a good one,” said Junius.