‘I have no patience!  You cannot understand what I am suffering!’ she said.  ’What are you to say to Ronald, to Major Chevenix, to my aunt?’

Your aunt?’ I cried, with a start.  ‘Peccavi! is she here?’

‘She is in the card-room at whist,’ said Flora.

‘Where she will probably stay all the evening?’ I suggested.

‘She may,’ she admitted; ‘she generally does!’

‘Well, then, I must avoid the card-room,’ said I, ’which is very much what I had counted upon doing.  I did not come here to play cards, but to contemplate a certain young lady to my heart’s content—­if it can ever be contented!—­and to tell her some good news.’

‘But there are still Ronald and the Major!’ she persisted.  ’They are not card-room fixtures!  Ronald will be coming and going.  And as for Mr. Chevenix, he—­’

‘Always sits with Miss Flora?’ I interrupted.  ’And they talk of poor St. Ives?  I had gathered as much, my dear; and Mr. Ducie has come to prevent it!  But pray dismiss these fears!  I mind no one but your aunt.’

‘Why my aunt?’

’Because your aunt is a lady, my dear, and a very clever lady, and, like all clever ladies, a very rash lady,’ said I.  ’You can never count upon them, unless you are sure of getting them in a corner, as I have got you, and talking them over rationally, as I am just engaged on with yourself!  It would be quite the same to your aunt to make the worst kind of a scandal, with an equal indifference to my danger and to the feelings of our good host!’

‘Well,’ she said, ’and what of Ronald, then?  Do you think he is above making a scandal?  You must know him very little!’

‘On the other hand, it is my pretension that I know him very well!’ I replied.  ’I must speak to Ronald first—­not Ronald to me—­that is all!’

‘Then, please, go and speak to him at once!’ she pleaded.  He is there—­do you see?—­at the upper end of the room, talking to that girl in pink.’

‘And so lose this seat before I have told you my good news?’ I exclaimed.  ’Catch me!  And, besides, my dear one, think a little of me and my good news!  I thought the bearer of good news was always welcome!  I hoped he might be a little welcome for himself!  Consider!  I have but one friend; and let me stay by her!  And there is only one thing I care to hear; and let me hear it!’

‘Oh, Anne,’ she sighed, ’if I did not love you, why should I be so uneasy?  I am turned into a coward, dear!  Think, if it were the other way round—­if you were quite safe and I was in, oh, such danger!’

She had no sooner said it than I was convicted of being a dullard.  ‘God forgive me, dear!’ I made haste to reply.  ’I never saw before that there were two sides to this!’ And I told her my tale as briefly as I could, and rose to seek Ronald.  ’You see, my dear, you are obeyed,’ I said.