“Without Cinders!” She stared at him mystified, then began to laugh.  “Trevor, I believe you are jealous of Cinders!”

“Perhaps,” he said.  “Anyhow, I should prefer your portrait without him.  You look like a baby of six cuddling a toy.”

“I wonder what makes you so anxious to marry me,” said Chris unexpectedly.

Mordaunt still smiled at her.  “Strange, isn’t it?” he said.

“Yes, I can’t understand it in the least.”  She shook her head with a puzzled expression.  “It’s a pity you don’t like that photograph.  I’m sure Cinders has come out beautifully.  And he isn’t a bit like a toy.”

“Yes, but I don’t want Cinders.”

Chris looked at him with sudden misgiving.  “But, Trevor, when—­when we are married—­”

“Oh, of course,” he said at once.  “I didn’t mean that.  I haven’t the smallest wish to part you from him.  It’s only his photograph I have no use for.”

Her face cleared magically.  “Dear Trevor, I quite understand.  And I would go and be done again to-morrow if I had the money, but I haven’t.”

“Are you very hard up?” he asked.

She nodded.  “Horribly.  I’m very extravagant, too—­at least, Aunt Philippa says so.  I can’t bear asking her for money.  In fact, I—­I—­”

She hesitated, avoiding his eyes.  “Shall I tell you something, Trevor?” she said in a whisper.  “It’s something I haven’t told anyone else!”

“Of course tell me!” He took her two hands into his, holding them up against his heart.

“Well—­it’s a secret, you know—­I—­I—­” She raised her face in sudden pleading.  “Promise you won’t be cross, Trevor.”

“I promise, dear,” he answered gravely.

“Well, I’m afraid it’s rather bad of me.  I haven’t been paying for things lately.  I simply couldn’t.  London is a dreadful place for spending money, isn’t it?  It’s all quite little things, but they mount up shockingly.  And—­and—­Aunt Philippa is bound to give me some money presently for my—­my trousseau.  So I thought—­I thought—­” She came nearer to him; she laid her cheek coaxingly against his breast.  “Trevor, you said you wouldn’t be cross.”

He put his hand on her bright hair.  “I am not cross, dear.  I am only sorry.”

Chris was inclined to be a little tearful.  She did not quite know what had led her to tell him—­it had been the impulse of a moment—­but it was a vast relief to feel he knew.

“I’m not a very good manager, I’m afraid,” she said.  “But there are certain things one must have, and they do add up so.  I believe it’s the odd halfpennies and farthings that do it.  Don’t you ever find that?”

“I can quite imagine it,” he said.

“Yes, they’re so deceptive.  I wonder why two-and-elevenpence three-farthings sound so much less than three shillings.  It’s a snare and a delusion.  I don’t think it ought to be allowed.”  She raised her head with her April smile.  “I’m very glad I told you, Trevor.  You’re very nice about things.  I was afraid you would be like Aunt Philippa, but you are not in the least.”