“If I were Louis I would marry her,” said Stephanie very quietly.  “I gave him that advice.”

She rose, looking down at Lily where she sat bowed over her wool-work, her face buried in her hands.

“Think about it; and talk patiently with Louis,” she said gently.

Passing the stairs she glanced toward the telephone.  Louis was still talking to somebody in New York.

* * * * *

It was partly fear of what her husband had hinted, partly terror of what she considered worse still—­a legal marriage—­that drove Lily Collis to write once more to Valerie West: 

“DEAR MISS WEST:  It is not that I have any disposition to doubt your word to me, but, in view of the assurance you have given me, do you consider it wise to permit my brother’s rather conspicuous attentions to you?

“Permit me, my dear Miss West, as an older woman with wider experience which years must bring, to suggest that it is due to yourself to curtail an intimacy which the world—­of course mistakenly in your case—­views always uncharitably.

“No man—­and I include my brother as severely as I do any man—­has a right to let the world form any misconception as to his intentions toward any woman.  If he does he is either ignorant or selfish and ruthless; and it behooves a girl to protect her own reputation.

“I write this in all faith and kindliness for your sake as well as for his.  But a man outlives such things, a woman never.  And, for the sake of your own future I beg you to consider this matter and I trust that you may not misconstrue the motive which has given me the courage to write you what has caused me deepest concern.

“Very sincerely yours,

“LILY COLLIS.”

To which Valerie replied: 

“MY DEAR, MRS. COLLIS:  I have to thank you for your excellent intentions in writing me.  But with all deference to your wider experience I am afraid that I must remain the judge of my own conduct.  Pray, believe that, in proportion to your sincerity, I am grateful to you; and that I should never dream of being discourteous to Mr. Neville’s sister if I venture to suggest to her that liberty of conscience is a fundamental scarcely susceptible of argument or discussion.

“I assume that you would not care to have Mr. Neville know of this correspondence, and for that reason I am returning to you your letter so that you may be assured of its ultimate destruction.

“Very truly yours,

“VALERIE WEST.”

Which letter and its reply made Valerie deeply unhappy; and she wrote Neville a little note saying that she had gone to the country with Helene d’Enver for a few days’ rest.

The countess had taken a house among the hills at Estwich; and as chance would have it, about eight miles from Ashuelyn and Penrhyn Cardemon’s great establishment, El Nauar.

Later Valerie was surprised and disturbed to learn of the proximity of Neville’s family, fearing that if Mrs. Collis heard of her in the neighbourhood she might misunderstand.