“But I was a little nervous lest my father should lose his interest and grow slack when we were alone, and he’d only me to talk things over with and to consult, so I begged Colonel Carteret to come abroad with us.”

“Ah!  I see—­quite so,” Henrietta murmured.  “It was at your request.”

“Yes.  He was beautifully kind, as he always is.  He agreed at once, gave up all his own plans and came.”

“And stays”—­Henrietta said.

“Yes, for the present.  But to tell the truth I’m worried about his staying.”

“Why?”—­again with a just perceptible edge of eagerness.

“Because, of course, I have no right to trade on his kindness, even for my father’s sake or the sake of the book.”

“And that is your only reason?”

“Isn’t it more than reason enough?  There must be other people who want him and things of his own he wants to do.  It would be odiously selfish of me to interfere by keeping him tied here.  I have wondered lately whether I oughtn’t to speak to him about it and urge his going home.  I was worrying rather over that when you arrived this afternoon, and then the gladness of seeing you put it out of my head.  But how I wish you would advise me, Henrietta, if it’s not troubling you too much.  You and they have been friends so long and you must know so much better than I can what’s right.  Tell me what is my duty—­about his staying, I mean—­to, to them both, do you think?”

Henrietta Frayling did not answer at once.  Her delicate features perceptibly sharpened and hardened, her lips becoming thin as a thread.

“You’re not vexed with me?  I haven’t been tiresome and asked you something I shouldn’t?” Damaris softly exclaimed, smitten with alarm of unintended and unconscious offence.

“No—­no—­but you put a difficult question, since I have only impressions and those of the most, fugitive to guide me.  Personally, I am always inclined to leave well alone.”

“But is this well?—­There’s just the point.”

“You are very anxious”—­

“Yes, I am very anxious.  You see I care dreadfully much.”

Henrietta bent down, giving her attention to an inch of kilted silk petticoat, showing where it should not, beneath the hem of her blue skirt.

“I hesitate to give you advice; but I can give you my impressions—­for what they may be worth.  Seeing Colonel Carteret this afternoon he struck me as being in excellent case—­enviably young for his years and content.”

“You thought so?  Yet that’s just what has worried me.  Once or twice lately I have not been sure he was quite content.”

“Oh! you put it too high!” Henrietta threw off.  “Can one ever be sure anyone—­even one’s own poor self—­is quite content?”

And she looked round, bringing the whole artillery of her still great, if waning, loveliness suddenly to bear upon Damaris, dazzling, charming, confusing her, as she said: