“It’s—well, of course I’m only Elizabeth’s father, and —well, you know what I mean. Naturally I can’t speak to her, but—er—well, I’ve been wondering whether we— er—oughtn’t to—er—ask someone—a—a married woman, I mean—to—to—well, have a talk with Elizabeth. Don’t you—er—think so?”

Miss Arden sat very straight. He did not look at her, but began to fold the evening paper, fiercely. Miss Arden’s voice was dangerous.

“I don’t think I quite understand you, Lawrence,” she said. He knew that she did understand, and was angry.

“Well, er—I don’t know—how much—er, I mean, what Elizabeth knows, but she—um—I can’t help feeling that perhaps if Mrs. Cockburn talked to her a bit—before she’s married ...”

“May I ask why Mrs. Cockburn is to be put in my place?” said Miss Arden icily.

“Well, but—hang it all, Anne, you’re not a married woman, and—and it’s not a job for a—a spinster.”

“I can assure you, Lawrence, that I am perfectly capable of telling Elizabeth all that she ought to know. I fail to see that this is your department.”

“No, er—quite. Only Elizabeth hasn’t got a mother, and—well, she’s very—er—innocent. Besides it’s not— not a pleasant task for you, and—”

“I am not at all likely to shirk my responsibilities.”

“Now, Anne—now, really, Anne, did I suggest such a thing? All I meant was—”

“You would be most ill-advised to ask Mrs. Cockburn to interfere—or anyone else for that matter. A great deal of nonsense is talked nowadays on this subject. Provided the man is nice it is most undesirable that girls should know too much. You may take it from me, Lawrence, that it simply puts silly ideas into their heads.”

Lawrence wanted to tell Anne that as she had never been married she knew nothing about it, but he dared not.

“Yes, yes, I daresay. But at the same time I don’t think it’s—well, fair.”

“Really, Lawrence! I should never have thought that you would have fallen for this modern craze of telling girls everything.”

“It’s not exactly— What I mean is, it isn’t fair to—”

“If you haven’t enough faith in Stephen—”

“Not fair to him,” Lawrence said surprisingly.

Miss Arden stared at him with uplifted brows.

“I don’t understand you.”

“Not fair to either of them—beastly for Stephen.”

“I think you’re making mountains out of molehills.”

Lawrence was silent, wondering whether this were indeed so. If it were, his course was easy to see: he could relapse into inanition. After all, he supposed that Anne must know Elizabeth better than he did, and could be trusted to do and say what was right.

“Well, anyhow, Anne, you must find out just what Elizabeth—”