Barry’s blue eyes smiled reassuringly across at her.  “All right, old thing.  Two heads are generally better than one if you’re up against a snag.”

Half an hour later she beckoned him into the study.

“What’s the trouble?” He slipped an arm round her shoulders.  “Don’t look like that, Kitten.  We’re sure to be able to put things right somehow.”

She smiled at him rather ruefully.

“It’s you who’ll have to do the putting right, Barry—­and it’ll be a hateful business, too,” she replied.

“Thanks,” murmured Barry.  “Well, what’s in the letter that’s bothering you?”

“It’s from Peter,” burst out Kitty.  “He’s going straight off to Africa—­to-morrow!  Celia, of course, will be buried out in India—­her uncle has cabled him that he’ll arrange everything.  And Peter has had the chance of a returned berth in a boat that sails to-morrow, so he proposes to get his kit together and start at once.”

“I should have thought he’d have started at once—­in this direction,” remarked Barry drily.

“He would have done, I expect, only he’s so bitter over Nan’s attempt to run away with Maryon Rooke that he’s determined to bury himself in the wilds.  If he only knew what she’d gone through before she did such a thing, he’d understand and forgive her.  But that’s just like a man!  When the woman he cares for acts in a way that’s entirely inconsistent with all he knows of her, he never thinks of trying to work backwards to find out the cause.  The effect’s enough for him!  Oh!”—­with a sigh—­“I do think Peter and Nan are most difficult people to manage.  If it were only that—­just a lovers’ squabble—­one might fix things up.  But now, just when every obstacle in the world is removed and they could be happily married, Nan must needs decide that it’s her duty to marry Roger!”

“Her duty?”

“Yes.”  And Kitty plunged forthwith into a detailed account of all that had happened.

“Good old Nan!  She’s a well-plucked ’un,” was Barry’s comment when she had finished.

“Of course it’s splendid of her,” said Kitty.  “Nan was always an idealist in her notions—­but in practice it would just mean purgatory.  And I won’t let her smash up the whole of her own life, and Peter’s for an ideal!”

“How do you propose to prevent it, m’dear?”

“I propose that you should prevent it.”

“I?  How?”

Kitty laid an urgent hand on his arm.

“You must go over to Trenby and see Roger.”

“See Roger?  My dear girl, he won’t be able to see visitors for days yet.”

“Oh, yes, he will,” replied Kitty.  “Isobel Carson rang up just now to ask if Nan would come over.  It appears that, barring the injury to his back, he escaped without a scratch.  He didn’t even know he was hurt till he found he couldn’t use his legs.  Of course, he’ll be in bed.  Isobel says he seems almost his usual self, except that he won’t let anyone sympathise with him over his injury.  He’s just savage about it.”