“It would have been an awful pill for me to swallow, ’Lisbeth, but—yes, I’d have taken you. I—couldn’t have helped myself. When I came to you—that day—I was prepared—even for that.”

“Oh—Stephen!”

He kissed her hands quickly.

“I didn’t believe it, darling, I swear that! It was just—a possibility. Don’t let’s speak of it. What about Christopher?”

Her hands lay in his. An awed look was in her eyes.

“You—must love me—very much—to have been able to—come to me—thinking that.”

“I didn’t think it.”

“You were afraid, though. I see now. I—I wish I were more—worthy of your love, Stephen.”

He bent his head.

“You’re worthy of much more. Don’t let it—worry you, darling. You’ve given me more than I hoped for.”

“I think it’s time I did let things worry me,” she said slowly. “I give you—nothing. It’s you who give—all the time.”

“You give all that you can. Don’t be unhappy, my dearest.”

“I ought to be unhappy. I hate myself. I hate Elizabeth-Anne.”

He looked up.

“How much?”

She had not meant to mention Elizabeth-Anne; it had slipped out before she noticed it. She had to explain.

Stephen laughed.

“Just like Mr. Hengist! Now I shall know what to say to you when you reprimand me for being late for breakfast.”

“What will you say?” she smiled.

“I shall say, Shut up, Elizabeth-Anne.”

“That ought to cure me,” she nodded. “About Christopher ...”

“Ring Cynthia up and put the plan before her.”

“Oh, I can’t! I— You do it!”

“Not going to. It’s your job. Don’t be silly, ’Lisbeth. Cyn’ll jump at it.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“Well, I am.” He jumped up and went to the telephone. Elizabeth heard him ask for Cynthia’s number.

Presently the bell rang; Stephen unhooked the receiver. Evidently Cynthia herself had answered the call.

“ Hullo, that you, Cyn? . . . Sorry about your illness. Sorry for you, I mean. Must be a relief for poor old Anthony to have your voice reduced to a whisper . . . What? ... I said it must be a rel— Oh, indeed? Nice way ter talk to your elders and betters . . . What? . . . What? ... I didn’t say I was a plural. Elder and better, then. Glad you recognise the fact. Look here, Elizabeth wants to speak to you! . . . Yes, Elizabeth. . . . Hold on, will you?” He turned. “Come on, old girl.”

Reluctantly she took the receiver from him.

“Oh—how do you do, Cynthia?” she said, rather shakily. Cynthia’s cracked voice reached her.

“Hullo, how are you?”

“I’m all right, thanks. I’m so sorry you’ve been ill. I—i wondered whether—you’d let—let me take care of— of Christopher for you—while you and Anthony go away. I—I would so love to—if—if you’d trust him—to me.”