“But I’m as meek as a lamb,” protested Saltash.

She met his look with friendly eyes.  “Yes, I know—­a lamb in wolf’s clothing—­rather a frisky lamb, Charles, but comparatively harmless.  If I hadn’t realized that—­I shouldn’t have asked you to come.”

“I like your qualification,” he said.  “With whom do I compare thus favourably?  The redoubtable Dick?”

The colour came swiftly into her face and he laughed, derisively but not unkindly.

“It’s a new thing for me—­this sort of job.  Are you sure my lamb-like qualities will carry me through?  Do you know, dear, I’ve never seen you look so amazing sweet in all my life before?  I never knew you could bloom like this.  It’s positively dangerous.”

He regarded her critically, his head on one side, an ardour half-mocking, half-genuine, in his eyes.

Juliet uttered a sigh.  “I feel a careworn old hag,” she said.  “My own fault of course.  Things are in a nice muddle, and I don’t know which way to turn.”

“One slip from the path of rectitude!” mocked Saltash.  “Alas, how fatal this may prove!”

She looked away from him.  “Do you always jeer at your friends when they are in trouble?” she said somewhat wearily.

“Always,” said Saltash promptly.  “It helps ’em to find their feet—­like lighting the fire when the chimney-sweep’s boy got stuck in the chimney.  It’s a priceless remedy, my Juliette.  Nothing like it.”

“I shall begin to hate you directly,” remarked Juliet with her wan smile.

He laughed, not without complacence.  “Do you good to try.  You won’t succeed.  No one ever does.  I gather the main trouble is that Dick has gone to town when you didn’t want him to.  Husbands are like that sometimes, you know.  Are you afraid he won’t come back—­or that he will?”

“He will come back—­to-day,” she said.  “You know—­or perhaps you don’t know—­there is going to be a concert to-night for the miners.  He is going to talk to them afterwards.  He has gone up to-day to see—­Ivor Yardley.”

“What ho!” said Saltash.  “This is interesting.  And what does he hope to get out of him?”

“I don’t know,” she said.  “I had no idea who he was going to see till yesterday evening.  Mr. Ashcott came in and they were talking, and the name came out.  I am not sure that he wanted me to know—­though I don’t know why I think so.”

“And so you sent me an S.O.S.!” said Saltash.  “I am indeed honoured!”

She turned towards him very winningly, very appealingly.  “Charles Rex, I sent for you because I want a friend—­so very badly.  My happiness is in the balance.  Don’t you understand?”

Her deep voice throbbed with feeling.  He stretched out a hand to her with a quick, responsive gesture that somehow belied the imp of mischief in his eyes. “Bien, ma Juliette!  I am here!” he said.

“Thank you,” she said very earnestly.  “I knew I could count on you—­that you would not withdraw your protection when once you had offered it.”