“You couldn’t be expected to think of everything at once, Miss Guion,” Davenant said, clumsily.

“I might have been expected to think of this; but I didn’t.  I suppose it’s what you meant when you said that there were sides to the question that I didn’t see.  You said it, too, papa.  I wish you had spoken more plainly.”

“We talked it over, Miss Guion.  We didn’t want to seem to force you.  It’s the kind of thing that’s better done when it’s done of one’s own impulse.  We were sure you’d come to it.  All the same, if you hadn’t done it to-day, we’d made up our minds to—­to suggest it.  That’s why I took the liberty of bringing these things.  Those are bonds that you’ve got your hand on—­and the checks make up the sum total.”

By an instinctive movement she snatched her fingers away; but, recovering herself, she took the package deliberately into her hands and stood holding it.

“I’ve been explaining to Davenant,” Guion said, in a muffled voice, “that things aren’t quite so hopeless as they seem.  If we ever come into Aunt Vic’s money—­”

“But there’s no certainty of that, papa.”

“No certainty, but a good deal of probability.  She’s always given us to understand that the money wouldn’t go out of her own family; and there’s practically no one left now but you and me.  And if it should come to us, there’d be more than enough to—­to square everything.  You’d do it, dear, wouldn’t you, if Aunt Vic were to leave the whole thing to you?  I think she’s as likely to do that as not.”

“Mr. Davenant must know already that I shall give my whole life to trying to pay our debt.  If there’s anything I could sign at once—­”

Davenant moved from the fireside.  “There’s nothing to sign, Miss Guion,” he said, briefly.  “The matter is ended as far as I’m concerned.  Mr. Guion has got the money, and is relieved from his most pressing embarrassments.  That’s all I care about.  There’s no reason why we should ever speak of it again.  If you’ll excuse me now—­”

He turned toward the couch with his hand outstretched, but during the minute or two in which Olivia and he had been facing each other Guion had drawn the rug over his face.  Beneath it there was a convulsive shaking, from which the younger man turned away.  With a nod of comprehension to Olivia he tiptoed softly from the room.  As he did so he could see her kneel beside the couch and kiss the hand that lay outside the coverlet.

She overtook him, however, when he was downstairs picking up his hat and stick from the hall table.

She stood on the lowest step of the stairs, leaning on the low, white pillar that finished the balustrade.  He was obliged to pass her on his way to the door.  The minute was the more awkward for him owing to the fact that she did not take the initiative in carrying it off.  On the contrary, she made it harder by looking at him gravely without speaking.