If Nora could have known it all, Nora ought to have been very grateful, for Mr Glascock got into a cab in Eccleston Square and had himself driven direct to Curzon Street.  He himself believed that he was at that moment only doing the thing which he had for some time past resolved that he would do; but we perhaps may be justified in thinking that the actual resolution was first fixed by the discretion of Lady Milborough’s communication.  At any rate he arrived in Curzon Street with his mind fully resolved, and had spent the minutes in the cab considering how he had better perform the business in hand.

He was at once shown into the drawing-room, where he found the two sisters, and Mrs Trevelyan, as soon as she saw him, understood the purpose of his coming.  There was an air of determination about him, a manifest intention of doing something, an absence of that vagueness which almost always flavours a morning visit.  This was so strongly marked that Mrs Trevelyan felt that she would have been almost justified in getting up and declaring that, as this visit was paid to her sister, she would retire.  But, any such declaration on her part was unnecessary, as Mr Glascock had not been in the room three minutes before he asked her to go.  By some clever device of his own, he got her into the back room and whispered to her that he wanted to say a few words in private to her sister.

‘Oh, certainly,’ said Mrs Trevelyan, smiling.

‘I dare say you may guess what they are,’ said he.  ’I don’t know what chance I may have?’

‘I can tell you nothing about that,’ she replied, ’as I know nothing.  But you have my good wishes.’

And then she went.

It may be presumed that gradually some idea of Mr Glascock’s intention had made its way into Nora’s mind by the time that she found herself alone with that gentleman.  Why else had he brought into the room with him that manifest air of a purpose?  Why else had he taken the very strong step of sending the lady of the house out of her own drawing-room?  Nora, beginning to understand this, put herself into an attitude of defence.  She had never told herself that she would refuse Mr Glascock.  She had never acknowledged to herself that there was another man whom she liked better than she liked Mr Glascock.  But had she ever encouraged any wish for such an interview, her feelings at this moment would have been very different from what they were.  As it was, she would have given much to postpone it, so that she might have asked herself questions, and have discovered whether she could reconcile herself to do that which, no doubt, all her friends would commend her for doing.  Of course, it was clear enough to the mind of the girl that she had her fortune to make, and that her beauty and youth were the capital on which she had to found it.  She had not lived so far from all taint of corruption as to feel any actual horror at the idea of a girl giving herself to a man not because