“One must be fair, Miss Waring,” he said gently.  “I can’t imagine you being deliberately unfair to anyone.”

She flushed again.  There was something in his manner that she could not quite fathom, but it was something that she could not possibly resent.

“Not deliberately—­of course,” she said after a moment, as he waited for an answer.

“Of course not,” he agreed, in his courteous, rather tired voice.  “If, for instance, you were out with a friend and met a scorpion in a rage who stung you both, you’d want to take it out of the scorpion, wouldn’t you, not the friend?”

She hesitated, seeing in a flash the trend of the conversation, and unwilling to commit herself too deeply.

He read her reluctance at a glance.  “Please don’t be afraid of me,” he said, with that most winning smile of his.  “I promise you on my honour that whatever you say shall not be used against you.”

She smiled involuntarily.  “I am not afraid of you, only—­”

“Only—­” he said.

“I think there are a good many scorpions about,” she told him rather piteously.  “I could name several, all venomous.”

“I understand,” said Lucas Errol.  He passed his hand within her arm again and pressed it gently.  “And so you are flinging away all your valuables to escape them?” he questioned.  “Forgive me—­is that wise?”

She did not answer.

He began to make his difficult progress towards the house.

Suddenly, without looking at her he spoke again.  “I believe you’re a woman of sense, Miss Waring, and you know as well as I do that there is a price to pay for everything.  And the biggest things command the highest prices.  If we haven’t the means to pay for a big thing when it is offered us, we must just let it go.  But if we have—­well, I guess we’d be wise to sell out all the little things and secure it.  Those same little things are so almighty small in comparison.”

He ceased, but still Dot was silent.  It was not the silence of embarrassment, however.  He had spoken too kindly for that.

He did not look at her till they were close to the house, then for a few moments she was aware of his steady eyes searching for the answer she had withheld.

“Say, Miss Waring,” he said, “you are not vexed any?”

She turned towards him instantly, her round face full of the most earnest friendliness.  “I—­I think you’re a brick, Mr. Errol,” she said.

He shook his head.  “Nothing so useful, I am afraid, but I’m grateful to you all the same for thinking so.  Ah!  Here comes your father.”

The rector was hastening after them across the grass.  He joined them on the path before the house and urged his visitor to come in and rest.  The orchids were in the conservatory.  He believed he had one very rare specimen.  If Mr. Errol would sit down in the drawing-room he would bring it for his inspection.

And so it came to pass that when Bertie entered he found his brother deep in a botanical discussion with the enthusiastic rector while Dot had disappeared.  Bertie only paused to ascertain this fact before he turned round and went in quest of her.