“No!” Dot turned her flushed face suddenly upon him.  “You never meant me to forget,” she said, in a voice that shook beyond control.

“It must have been something very venomous,” he said.

“It was!” she answered, fighting with, herself.  “You—­you know it was!”

“It’s not worth crying about anyway,” said Nap.  “My sting may be poisonous, but it has never yet proved fatal.  Tell me where the mischief is, and p’r’aps I can remove it.”

He was smiling as he made the suggestion, smiling without malice, and, though Dot could not bring herself to smile in return, she was none the less mollified.

“What was it?” he persisted, pressing his advantage.  “Something beastly I said or looked or did?  I often do, you know.  It’s just my way.  Do you know what it was, Lady Carfax?”

She nodded.  “And I think you do too,” she said.

“I don’t,” he asserted, “on my honour.”

Dot looked incredulous.  “Don’t you remember that day in February,” she said, “the first day I ever came here—­the day you accused me of—­of running after Bertie for—­his money?”

“Great Christopher!” said Nap.  “You don’t say you took me seriously?”

“Of course I did,” she said, on the verge of tears.  “You—­you were serious too.”

“Ye gods!” said Nap.  “And I’ve been wondering why on earth you and Bertie couldn’t make up your minds!  So I’ve been the obstacle, have I?  And that’s why you have been hating me so badly all this time—­as if I were the arch-fiend himself!  By Jove!” He swung round on his heel.  “We’ll put this right at once.  Where’s Bertie?”

“Oh, no!” Dot said nervously.  “No!  Don’t call him!  He’ll see I’ve been crying.  Nap—­please!”

She disengaged herself from Anne, and sprang after him, seizing him impetuously by the arm.

“I mean—­Mr. Errol!” she substituted in confusion.

He clapped his hand upon hers and wheeled.  “You can call me anything under the sun that occurs to you as suitable,” he said.  “You may kick me also if you like—­which is a privilege I don’t accord to everybody.  You won’t believe me, I daresay.  Few people do.  But I’m sorry I was a beast to you that day.  I don’t deal in excuses, but when I tell you that I was rather badly up against something, p’r’aps you’ll be magnanimous enough to forgive me.  Will you?”

He looked her straight in the face with the words.  There was little of humility about him notwithstanding them, but there was something of melancholy that touched her warm heart.

“Of course I will!” she said impulsively.  “Let’s be friends, shall we?”

He gripped her hand till she felt the bones crack.  “Suppose we go and get some tea,” he said.  “Are you coming, Lady Carfax?”

“I’m not fit to be seen,” objected Dot, hanging back.

He drew her on, her hand still fast in his.  “Don’t be shy, my dear girl!  You look all right.  Will you lead the way, Lady Carfax?  In the hall, you know.”