Edward was really stirred to anger.  “Nancy,” he said, “how do you dare, even in fun—­”

“Oh, my dear,” answered his sister, as one wearied by all the folly in the world, “how can I be of any use to you if you will not open your eyes?  He ran away.  We don’t know of course just from what; but we do know this:  Max Riatt is the best match that has yet presented himself, and that Christine is the last girl in the world to ignore that simple fact.  Come, Ned, even if you do love her, you may as well admit the girl is not a perfect fool.  Fate, accident, or possibly her own clever manoeuvering put the game into her hands.  The question is, how did she play it?  I know what I’d have done, but I don’t believe she would.  I think she probably tried to make him believe that she was hopelessly compromised in the eyes of the world, and that there was no course open to an honorable man but to ask her to marry him.”

“I can’t imagine Christine playing such a part.”

“I tell you, you never do the poor girl justice.  If she did that—­and the chances are she did—­then his running away is most encouraging.  It means, in your own delightful language, that he did not fall for it—­did not want to run any risk of compromising her, if marriage was the consequence.”

“But, Nancy, Christine almost admitted that—­that he tried to make love to her.”

“I can’t see what that has to do with it, or what difference it makes,” replied Mrs. Almar.  “However, too much importance should not be attached to such admissions.  I have sometimes made them myself when the facts did not bear me out.  No woman likes to confess, especially to an old adorer like you, that she has spent so many hours alone with a man and he has not made love to her.”

Hickson shook his head.  “I’m not clever enough to be able to explain it,” he said, “but I received the clearest impression from her that she had been through some painful experience.”

“Good,” said Nancy.  “Do you know the most painful experience she could have been through?”

“No, what?”

“If he hadn’t paid the slightest attention to her; and that, my dear brother, is what I am inclined to think took place.  No, the game is still on; only now she’ll have the Usshers to help her.  This is no time for me to lie in bed.”

Ned looked at her doubtfully.  “I thought I’d try and sleep a little,” he said.

“The best thing you can do,” she returned.  “Lucie!  Lucie!  Where are the bells in this house!  What privations one suffers for staying away from home!  Oh, yes, here it is,” and she caught the atom of enamel and gold dangling at the head of her bed, and rang it without ceasing until the maid, who regarded her mistress with an admiration quite untinctured by affection, appeared silently at the doorway.

In an astonishingly short space of time, she was dressed and downstairs, presenting her usual sleek and polished appearance.  Wickham was alone in the drawing-room, and a suggestion that they should have another game of piquet quickly drove him to the writing of some purely imaginary business letters.