She felt a soft touch on her hair, heard Aaron's voice at its sweetest, infinitely tender. 'Poor baby, you're tired. You've lost your sense of proportion, my Theo. You must go to bed now. All shadows seem longer by candlelight. But first listen to me.'

He put his arm around her, wiped her tears with his own handkerchief. She rested her averted face against his knee.

He was silent for a moment, considering the best way of dealing with her.

He loved her. She was the only person that he did love, not even excepting himself. But she must do as he thought best. He was, now more than ever, convinced that an alliance with Alston would be of the greatest advantage. Ready money was imperative. Without something tangible with which to quiet his creditors, bankruptcy was inevitable. Public disgrace and the ruin of his ambitions. Disgrace for Theo, too, torn as he would be by the whole pack of envious ravening wolves. They suspected his financial desperation now, but they had no certainty. There was fortunately a very wide gulf between suspicion and certainty.

Alston was a heaven-sent answer. Not heaven-sent in the conventional meaning—Aaron had scant interest in a hypothetical paradise—but one of those remarkable opportunities briefly dangled by Fate which may be snatched by the shrewd and converted into great profit.

Alston had money and political influence, he was manageable, and to cap it all had obviously become enamored of Theo with an even more convenient speed than Aaron had dared anticipate.

That the child had been shocked or revolted by whatever love-making had occurred was a trifle unfortunate. But on the whole it did not displease him. He did not quite admit it to himself, but he would have opposed any match with a man whom she passionately desired. He had no intention of transferring her devotion from himself to another. Her worship was the sweetest thing in life. Still, with Alston, there would be no danger of that.

Theodosia's prejudice must be overcome. He did not wish to force her. He considered utter frankness and discarded it. That would be a last resort. Propinquity would do it. The coming weeks with Alston under the same roof. Propinquity, and very subtle pressure.

Theo, understanding nothing of his thoughts, waited submissively for him to speak, thinking that he had not at first realized the enormity of Mr. Alston's offense and was now reconsidering.

She was, therefore, taken aback to hear Aaron say lightly: 'I think, my dear, we must forgive Mr. Alston his indiscretion. I am sure that he will not repeat it. You mustn't be a priggish little miss. Men are not angels. I find this young man admirable. You will respect my judgment as you always do.'

She raised her head, mutely questioning him. She could not read his smiling face, nor did she understand, but she felt a shadow between them, blotting out their closeness.