Gladys glanced at her and away again.

“Now you’re talking sheer rubbish,” she said lightly.  “You remind me of that absurd play, The Chinese Honeymoon, when the bride took her bridesmaids with her.”  She laughed; she took Christine’s hand and dragged her to her feet.  “You might smile a little,” she protested.  “Don’t let Jimmy think you’re afraid of him.”

“I am afraid.  I don’t want to go.”  Suddenly she began to cry.

Gladys’s kind eyes grew anxious, she stood silent for a moment.

“I’m ever so much happier here,” Christine went on.  “I hate London; I hate the horrid hotels.  I’d much rather be here with you and——­” she broke off.

Gladys let go of her hand; there was a pucker of anxiety between her eyes.  What had Kettering said to Christine? she asked herself in sudden panic.  Surely he had not broken his word to her.  She dismissed the thought with a shrug of the shoulders.

“Don’t be a baby, Chris,” she said a trifle impatiently.  “It’s up to you this time, anyway.  What’s the use of being young and as pretty as you are if you can’t win the man you want?”

Christine dried her eyes, her cheeks were flushed.

“But I don’t want him,” she said with sudden passion.  “I don’t want him any more than he wants me.”

Gladys stared at her in speechless dismay, she felt as if a cold hand had been laid on her heart.  She was unutterably thankful when the dinner gong broke the silence; she turned again to the door.

“Well, I want my dinner, that’s all I know,” she said.

She went downstairs without waiting for Christine.

Jimmy met her in the hall; he looked at her with a sort of suspicion, she thought, and she knew she was colouring.

“Look here, Jimmy,” she said with sudden brusqueness, “if she comes back here again without you it will be the last time you need ask me for help.  You’ve got your chance.  If you can’t make her want to stay with you for the rest of your natural life I wash my hands of the whole affair.”

“I’ll do my best.  I——­” he floundered.

Gladys caught his arm in friendly fashion.

“I’ve no right to tell you, I suppose,” she said, lowering her voice, “but it won’t be easy.  I never thought she’d change so, but now—­well——­” She shrugged her shoulders.

A little flame flashed into Jimmy’s eyes.

“You mean that she doesn’t care a hang for me now, is that it?” he asked roughly.

Gladys did not answer, she turned her face away.

Jimmy put his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look at him.

“Gladys, you don’t mean—­not—­not Kettering?”

There was a thrill of agony in his voice.

“I don’t know—­I can’t be sure,” Gladys answered him agitatedly.  “I don’t know anything.  It’s only—­only what I’m afraid of.”  She moved hurriedly away from him as they heard Christine’s footsteps on the landing upstairs.