“That is how Mr. Powys would write to me,” said Emilia.  Lady Charlotte laughed.  “My unhappy Merthyr!”

“Only if I could be a great deal older,” Emilia hastened to add; and Lady Charlotte slightly frowned, but rubbed it out with a smile.

Rising, the lady said:  “I have spoken to you upon equal terms; and remember, very few women would have done what I have done.  You are cared for by Merthyr Powys, and that’s enough.  It would do you no harm to fix your eyes upon him.  You won’t get him; but it would do you no harm.  He has a heart, as they call it; whatever it is, it’s as strong as a cable.  He is a knight of the antique.  He is specially guarded, however.  Well, he insists that you are his friend; so you are mine, and that is why I have come to you and spoken to you.  You will be silent about it, I need not say.  No one but yourself is aware that Lieutenant Pole does me the honour to liken me to the good old gentleman who accompanied Telemachus in his voyages, and chooses me from among the handmaidens of earth.  On this head you will promise to be silent.”

Lady Charlotte held forth her hand.  Emilia would not take it before she had replied, “I knew this before you came,” and then she pressed the extended fingers.

Lady Charlotte drew her close.  “Has Wilfrid taken you into his confidence so far?”

Emilia explained that she had heard it from his father.

The lady’s face lit up as from a sting of anger.  “Very well—­very well,” she said; and, presently, “You are right when you speak of the power of lying in men.  Observe—­Wilfrid told me that not one living creature knew there was question of an engagement between us.  What would you do in my case?”

Emilia replied, “Forgive him; and I should think no more of it.”

“Yes.  It would be right; and, presuming him to have the vice, I could be of immense service to him, if at least he does not lie habitually.  But this is a description of treachery, you know.”

“Oh!” cried Emilia, “what kind of treachery is that, if he only will keep his heart open for me to give all mine to it!”

She stood clutching her hands in the half-sobbing ecstasy which signalises a spiritual exaltation built on disquiet.  She had shown small emotion hitherto.  The sight of it was like the sight of a mighty hostile power to Lady Charlotte—­a power that moved her—­that challenged, and irritated, and subdued her.  For she saw there something that she had not; and being of a nature leaning to great-mindedness, though not of the first rank, she could not meanly mask her own deficiency by despising it.  To do this is the secret evil by which souls of men and women stop their growth.

Lady Charlotte decided now to say good-bye.  Her parting was friendly—­the form of it consisting of a nod, an extension of the hand, and a kind word or two.