“Oh!” said Dinah, and coloured vividly, painfully.

Scott did not see.  “I can get someone at the farm to take the message,” he said.  “And when once you are with Isabel I shall feel easy about you.”

“And—­and—­my—­mother?” faltered Dinah.

“I shall write to her this afternoon while we are waiting for Isabel,” said Scott quietly.

“What—­shall you say?” whispered Dinah.

“Do you mind leaving that entirely to me?” he said.

“She will be—­furious,” she murmured.  “She might—­out of revenge come after us.  What then?”

“She will certainly not do that,” said Scott, “as she will not know your address.  Besides, people do not remain furious, you know.  They cool down, and then they are generally ashamed of themselves.  Don’t let us talk about your mother!”

“The de Vignes then,” said Dinah, turning from the subject with relief.  “Tell me what happened!  Was the Colonel very angry?”

Scott’s mouth twitched slightly.  “Not in the least,” he said.

“Not really!” Dinah looked incredulous for a moment; then:  “Perhaps he thinks there is a fresh chance for Rose,” she said.

“Perhaps he does,” agreed Scott dryly.  “In any case, he is more disposed to smile than frown, and as Eustace wasn’t there to see it, it didn’t greatly matter.”

“Oh, poor Eustace!” she whispered.  “It—­was dreadful to hurt him so.”

“I think he will get over it,” Scott said.

“He was much—­kinder—­than—­than I deserved,” she murmured.

Scott’s faint smile reappeared.  “Perhaps he found it difficult to be anything else,” he said.

She shook her head.  “I wonder—­how I came to make—­such a dreadful mistake.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” said Scott.

She looked at him quickly.  “What makes you say that?”

He met her look gravely.  “Because I know just how it happened,” he said.  “You were neither of you in earnest in the first place.  I am afraid I had a hand in making Eustace propose to you.  I was afraid—­and so was Isabel—­you would be hurt by his trifling.”

“And you interfered?” breathed Dinah.

He nodded.  “Yes, I told him it must be one thing or the other.  I wanted you to be happy.  But instead of helping you, I landed you in this mess.”

Something in his tone touched her.  She laid a small shy hand upon his knee.  “It was—­dear of you, Scott,” she said very earnestly.  “Thank you—­ever so much—­for what you did.”

He put his hand on hers.  “My dear, I would have given all I had to have undone it afterwards.  It is very generous of you to take it like that.  I have often wanted to kick myself since.”

“Then you must never want to again,” she said.  “Do you know I’m so glad you’ve told me?  It was so—­fine of you—­to do that for me.  I’m sure you couldn’t have wanted me for a sister-in-law even then.”

“I wanted you to be happy,” Scott reiterated.