She tried to dismiss the recollection as an admission of cowardice engendered of the night’s mood.  But she could not do away with the memories which lingered obstinately.  Not since the days when Dick had offered his blind loyalty had any one tried to understand her as Austin Selwyn had done.  She was grateful for that.  She might even have valued his friendship if he had not been so despicable that awful night.  To insult her with his talk of pacifism, and then, heedless of her intensity, to propose to her!  She could not forgive him for that.  She was glad her words had stung him!

Minutes passed.  The fire would not answer to any attention, but sulkily lived out its little hour.  The evening seemed interminable.

It was shortly after ten o’clock when there was a knock at the door, and Elise hurried to open it, thinking there might be a message from the garage.

‘It’s only me, Elise,’ said a familiar voice.

‘Oh!—­Horace,’ she laughed.  ’What’s the trouble?  Did Marian leave anything behind?’

’No.  I was just absolutely fed up; and when she told me you were here alone, I thought I’d jolly well come down and talk to you.’

’Good!  Come in.  You mustn’t stay long, though.  Please don’t notice this horrible mess.’

In sheer pleasure at the breaking of the solitude, her vivacity made her eyes sparkle with life.  Her sentences were crisp and rapid, and as she led the young officer to a seat by the fire it would have been difficult for Elise herself to think that a few minutes before she had been helplessly and lonesomely on the brink of tears.

‘How is the dance going on up the street?’ she asked, as Maynard inserted a cigarette between his lips without lighting it.

‘It’s a poisonous affair.’

‘Poor boy!’

’I’m fed up, Elise.  I’m—­I’m gorged.  When I heard you were down here, I said, “By George!  I’ll go and see her.  I can talk to Elise.  She’s got some sense."’

‘What a thing to say about a woman!’

’Don’t chaff me, Elise.  I can’t stand it.  I’m frightfully upset—­really.’

‘What has Marian been doing to you?’’

’Nothing, except making a blithering ass of me.  You know, I was fearfully keen on her, and I’ve passed up all sorts of fluff so as to do the decent; but when that brute Heckles-Jennings advised me to-night to be sure and sit out a dance with Marian because she was such hot stuff, he said . . .  Of course, he’s an outsider and all that, and I told him to go to hell—­but you don’t blame me for feeling cut up, do you, Elise?’

‘Didn’t you know she was that kind?’

‘What kind?’

’Oh—­the—­the universal kisser—­the complete osculator—­the’——­

’I say’——­

’But surely you don’t think you are the only one she has made a fool of?  To begin with, there’s her husband in France—­a brother-officer, Horace.’