“Yes, of course, Evie’s all right.  But you know, Billy dear, this thing requires a great deal of management and straightening out, and I do wish you’d let me take charge of it.  I know every one concerned, you see, so that I could do it better than any one—­any one but you, I mean—­”

“I understand that all right.  I’m not going to be rough on them, but all the same—­”

She got him to sit down at last, made tea for him, and soothed him.  At the end of an hour he had undertaken not to molest Miss Jarrott, or to fight that “confounded South-American,” or to say a word of any kind to Evie till she was ready to say a word to him.  He became impressed with the necessity for diplomatic action and, after some persuasion, promised to submit to guidance—­at any rate, for a time.

“And now, Billy, I’m going to write a note.  The first thing to be done is that you should find Mr. Strange and deliver it to him before nine o’clock this evening.  You’ll do it quietly, won’t you? and not let him see that you are anything more than my messenger.  No matter where he is, even in a private house, you must see that he gets the note, if at all possible.”

When he had sworn to this she wrote a few lines hurriedly.  He carried them away in the same tumultuous haste with which he had come.  After his departure she felt herself unexpectedly strong and calm.

XVIII

The feeling of being equal to anything she might have to face continued with her.  Now that the moment for action had arrived she had confidence in her ability to meet it, since it had to be done.  At dinner she was able to talk to Wayne on indifferent topics, and later, when he had retired to his den to practise his Braile, she sat down in the drawing-room with a book.  Noticing that she wore the severe black dress in which she had assisted at the “killing off” of Evie’s family, she brightened it with a few unobtrusive jewels, so as to look less like the Tragic Muse.  The night being cold, a cheerful fire burned on the hearth, beside which she sat down and waited.

When he was shown in, about half-past eight, it seemed to her best not to rise to receive him.  Something in her repose, or in her dignity, gave him the impression of arriving before a tribunal, and he began his explanations almost from the doorway.

“I got your note.  Young Merrow caught me at dinner.  I was dining alone, so that I could come at once.”

“You’re very kind.  I’m glad you were able to do it.  Won’t you sit down?”

Without offering her hand, she indicated a high arm-chair suitable for a man, on the other side of the hearth.  He seated himself with an air of expectation, while she gazed pensively at the fire, speaking at last without looking up.

“I hear Miss Jarrott has begun to announce your engagement to Evie.”

“I understood she was going to, to a few intimate friends.”