“But, look here, there’s the awkward fact that I really have gone rather far with the Crosses.”

Will made a movement of all but angry impatience.

“Do you mean,” he asked quickly, “that she has committed herself in any way?”

“No, that she certainly hasn’t,” was Franks, deliberate reply, in a voice as honest as the smile which accompanied it.

“My advice then is—­break decently off, and either do what I suggested, or go and amuse yourself with millionaire Sir Luke, and extend your opportunities.”

Franks mused.

“You are serious about Rosamund?” he asked, after a glance at Warburton’s set face.

“Think it over,” Will replied, in a rather hard voice.  “I saw the thing like that.  Of course, it’s no business of mine; I don’t know why I interfere; every man should settle these matters in his own way.  But it was a thought I had, and I’ve told it you.  There’s no harm done.”

CHAPTER 33

When Warburton reached his lodging the next evening he found a letter on his table.  Again the fine feminine hand; it was the second time that Rosamund had written to him.  A vague annoyance mingled with his curiosity as he tore the envelope.  She began by telling him of a drawing she had made in Camberwell Grove—­not bad, it seemed to her, but she wished for his opinion.  Then, in a new paragraph: 

“I have seen Norbert again.  I call him Norbert, because I always think of him by that name, and there’s an affectation in writing ‘Mr. Franks.’  I felt that, when we talked of him, and I really don’t know why I didn’t simply call him Norbert then.  I shall do so in future.  You, I am sure, have little respect for silly social conventions, and you will understand me.  Yes, I have seen him again, and I feel obliged to tell you about it.  It was really very amusing.  You know, of course, that all embarrassment was over between us.  At Ashtead we met like the best of friends.  So, when Norbert wrote that he wanted to see me, I thought nothing could be more natural, and felt quite glad.  But, as soon as we met, I saw something strange in him, something seemed to have happened.  And—­how shall I tell you?  It’s only a guess of mine—­things didn’t come to foolish extremities—­but I really believe that the poor fellow had somehow persuaded himself that it’s his duty to—­no, I can’t go on, but I’m sure you will understand.  I was never so amused at anything.

“Why do I write this to you?  I hardly know.  But I have just a suspicion that the story may not come to you quite as a surprise.  If Norbert thought he had a certain duty—­strange idea!—­perhaps friends of his might see things in the same way.  Even the most sensible people are influenced by curious ideas on one subject.  I need not say that, as soon as the suspicion dawned upon me, I did my best to let him understand how far astray he was going.  I think he understood.  I feel sure he did.  At all events he got into natural talk again, and parted in a thoroughly reasonable way.