“Thank you, Chris. Now I want to say something very serious to you.  Will you listen—­and take it seriously?”

She gave a little sigh.  “I know exactly what it is.”

“No, you don’t know.”  Mordaunt looked at her with eyes that were gravely kind.  “You are not to jump to conclusions where I am concerned,” he said.  “You don’t know me well enough.  What I have to say is this.  I can’t have you in difficulties for want of a little money.  Those debts of yours must be settled at once.”

“But, Trevor, Aunt Philippa—­”

“Never mind Aunt Philippa.  It has nothing to do with her.  It is a matter between you and me.  We will settle it without her assistance.”

“Oh, Trevor, but—­”

“There is no ‘but,’ Chris,” he said, interrupting her almost sternly.  “I am nearer to you than your aunt.  Tell me—­as nearly as you can—­what those debts amount to.”

Chris was looking a little startled.  “But I—­I don’t know,” she said.

“Well, find out and tell me.”  He smiled at her again.  “It’s all right, dear.  Don’t be afraid of me.  I know it’s hard to keep within bounds when there is a shortage of means.  But I don’t like debts.  You won’t run up any more?”

Chris still looked at him somewhat doubtfully.  “I won’t if I can help it,” she said.

“You will be able to help it,” he rejoined.

“Yes, but, Trevor, please let me say it.  I don’t think you ought to—­to give me money before—­before—­Oh, do understand!” she broke off helplessly.  “You generally do.”

“I quite understand,” he said, his hand on her shoulder.  “But, my child, I think, considering all things, that you need not let that scruple trouble you.  Since we are to be married in six weeks—­”

“In six weeks, Trevor!” Again that startled look that was almost one of consternation.

“In six weeks,” he repeated, with quiet emphasis.  “Your cousin will probably be back from her honeymoon, and it will be the end of the season.  Since, then, our marriage is to take place in six weeks, and that I shall then be responsible for you, I do not think you need be troubled about letting me help you out of this difficulty now.  No one will know of it.  It will set your mind at rest—­and mine also.”

“Ah, but, Trevor—­” Chris spoke somewhat breathlessly—­she was rubbing her hand nervously up and down his sleeve—­“I’m not quite sure that—­that it will set my mind at rest.  I’m not sure that—­that I want you to do it, or that I ought to let you even if I did, because, you see, because—­”

“Because—?” he said.

She turned her head aside, avoiding his direct look.  “Don’t be angry, will you?  But just—­just supposing something happened, and—­and—­and we didn’t get married after all?”

She ended rather desperately, in an undertone.  But for the quiet hand on her shoulder she would have moved away from him; she might even have been tempted to flee altogether.  As it was, she stood still, trembling a little, wondering if she had outrun his patience at last or if he had it in him still to bear with her.