“A what?”

“An unfortunate affair; he was very deeply in love—­”

“Not ridiculously, I hope!”

“I don’t know what you mean....  He cared more than I have believed possible; I saw him in New York on his way here and, Jim, he must have known then, for he looked like death—­”

“You mean he was in love with that Cardross girl?”

“Oh, yes, yes!...  I do not understand the affair; but I tell you, Jim, the strangest part was that the girl loved him!  If ever a woman was in love with a man, Shiela Cardross was in love with Garry!  I tell you I know it; I am not guessing, not hazarding an opinion; I know it....  And she married Louis Malcourt!...  And, Jim, I have been so frightened—­so terrified—­for Garry—­so afraid that he might not care to fight—­”

Wayward leaned there heavily and in silence.  He was going to say that men do not do such things for women any longer, but he thought of the awful battle not yet ended which he had endured for the sake of the woman beside him; and he said nothing; because he knew that, without hope of her to help him, the battle had long since gone against him.  But Garry had nothing to fight for, if what Constance said was true.  And within him his latent distrust and contempt for Malcourt blazed up, tightening the stern lines of his sun-burnt visage.

“Portlaw says that Louis is coming to-night, and that young Mrs. Malcourt is with him,” he observed.

“I know it....  I was wondering if there was any way we could use her—­make use of her—­”

“To stir up Garry to fight?”

“Y-yes—­something like that—­I am vague about it myself—­if it could be done without anybody suspecting the—­O Jim!—­I don’t know; I am only a half-crazed woman willing to do anything for my boy—­”

“Certainly.  If there’s anything that might benefit Garry you need not hesitate on account of that little beast Malcourt—­”

She said in her gentle, earnest way:  “Louis Malcourt is so very strange.  He has treated Virginia dreadfully; they were engaged—­they must have been or she could not have gone all to pieces the way she has....  I cannot understand it, Jim—­”

“What’s Louis coming here for?”

“Mr. Portlaw begged him to come—­”

“What for?  Oh, well, I guess I can answer that for myself; it’s to save Portlaw some trouble or other—­”

“You are very hard on people—­very intolerant, sometimes—­”

“I have no illusions concerning the unselfishness of Billy Portlaw.  Look at him tagging after the doctors and bawling for pills!—­with Garry lying there!  He hustled him into a cottage, too—­”

“He was quite right, Jim, Garry is better off—­”

“So’s William.  Don’t tell me, Constance; he’s always been the same; he never really cared for anybody in all his life except Louis Malcourt.  But it’s a jolly, fat, good-humoured beast, and excellent company aboard the Ariani!” ...  He was silent a moment, then his voice deepened to a clear, gentle tone, almost tender:  “You’ve been rained on enough, now; come in by the fire and I’ll bring you the latest news from Garry.”