“He is not!”

“I know that. He knows the devil of a lot about horses, and — ” He broke off, suddenly struck by her unusual vehemence. “You don’t mean to tell me you’re in love again?” he exclaimed.

“No! for I was never in love before! Never!”

“Not in love before —! Why, what about — ”

“No!” she reiterated. “I didn’t know! I didn’t understand! This is different — quite, quite different!”

“Well,” said Harry sceptically, “if you weren’t in love with any of the cawkers who made such dashed cakes of themselves about you, all I can say is that you’re a desperate flirt! Why, you never even hinted them away!”

Tears sprang to her eyes; she uttered in a stricken voice: “Oh, Harry, no! Not a flirt! It was only that they were all such particular friends! How could I be unkind to anyone I’ve known all my life? And if you are thinking of poor Mr Griff, I promise you I didn’t give him the least encouragement!”

“Or the least set-down!” said Harry.

“But, dearest, only think how — how brutal it would have been! He was so dreadfully humble, and he had so much sensibility! I couldn’t wound him so!”

“There wasn’t anything very humble about the Jack-at-warts Tom Rushbury brought home with him last year! The coxcomb who had the infernal impudence to come serenading you, and woke us all up with his damned caterwauling!”

“Oh, Harry!” she said reproachfully. “You know he had a very fine voice! Yes, and you know I didn’t like him, and was only kind to him because you were so uncivil as to empty a jug of water over him, and pretend you thought he was a cat! I own, I have once or twice fancied I might be in love, but I know now that I quite mistook the matter. I never loved any of them as I love my dear, dear Endymion, and I never shall!”

“Yes, you will,” said Harry, in a bracing tone. “Well, you know what you are, Charis! You’ll have a tendre for some other fellow next week, I daresay!”

Her tears spilled over; she turned her face away, saying sadly: “I had hoped that you would understand!”

“For the lord’s sake, don’t get ticklish!” begged Harry, observing with apprehension these signs of distress. “What the deuce is there to cry about? It ain’t as if Dauntry weren’t nutty on you! Frederica told me he was — not that she need have done so! — any jobbernoll could see that!”

“Frederica doesn’t like him,” said Charis, on a sob.

“Well, what has that to say to anything? It’s my belief she don’t know you’ve formed a — a lasting passion for him! Why the devil don’t you tell her? Good God, you surely ain’t afraid of her?”

“Oh, no, no, no!” declared Charis. “But she wouldn’t believe me, Harry, any more than you do! It’s all so dreadful! It was on my account we came to London, because Frederica was set on establishing me c-comfortably! I know she doesn’t think I should be comfortable with Endymion, and should f-forget him in a sennight if I didn’t see him again! And she has pinched, and saved, and c-contrived all for my sake! How could I be so ungrateful as to — ”

“Fudge!” interrupted Harry, with strong common-sense. “I’ll tell you what, Charis: if you don’t stop trying to do what everybody wants, you’ll find yourself in the suds! Besides, Frederica is a dashed sight too fond of you to drive a spoke in your wheel, even if she could!”

“But she could, Harry! Oh, she would never, never do so if she didn’t believe I should regret it, if I m-married my adored Endymion! But that’s just what she does believe! I know she thinks that she need not care for his visiting us, because I shall grow tired of him!”

Since Harry knew this too, and was much inclined to agree with Frederica, he could find nothing better to say than: “Oh, well! No sense in getting into the hips! If — I mean, when she sees that you really have fixed your interest, she’ll come about!”

Another sob shook Charis. “Alas, it’s worse than you know! And I have the gravest fear that Endymion will be torn from me!”

“No, that’s coming it much too strong!” said Harry, revolted. “I wish you wouldn’t talk such balderdash! Torn from you indeed! By Frederica, I collect!”

“Oh, no, no! By Cousin Alverstoke!”

He stared. “What the devil has he to do with it?”

“Endymion is his heir,” replied Charis mournfully.

“Well, what if he is?” With a stirring of his earlier suspicion, he said: “Is he dangling after you himself?”

She looked astonished. “Alverstoke? Good gracious, no! He likes Frederica better than me, but he isn’t dangling after either of us. I expect, if he ever does marry, it will be someone of high rank and fortune, for everybody says that he is very proud, besides being of the first consequence. You may depend upon it that he means Endymion to do the same. And so does Endymion’s mama. She is determined he shall make a brilliant match: Chloë told me so. She is his sister, you know, and the dearest girl! She says that Mrs Dauntry is always on the lookout for a suitable heiress. One can’t wonder at it, or blame her. He is not rich, you see, and if Cousin Alverstoke ceased to make him an allowance he would be quite poor. I shouldn’t care a straw for that, and he says he wouldn’t either, but — oh, Harry, he has been used to live in the first circles, and to ride splendid hunters, and not to consider expense very much, and I am so afraid he would hate to be obliged to make and scrape!”

Harry was beginning to think that Frederica was wiser than he had at first supposed; but since he knew Charis would start to cry again if he said so he sought for something consoling to say instead, finally achieving: “Well, I see no occasion for you to be thrown into gloom! Ten to one Alverstoke won’t raise any objection. After all, he hasn’t tried to interfere, has he?”

“He doesn’t know,” said Charis, refusing to be comforted. “Mrs Dauntry suspects, but Chloë says she is hoping it is only a horrid flirtation. But if Frederica was aware of my sentiments, and begged Cousin Alverstoke to intervene —!” She shuddered, and clasped her hands tensely together. “You see, he could, Harry! He could arrange for Endymion to be sent abroad, for instance, and then I think I should die. Oh, my dear brother, there’s no one to help us but you, and I count on your support!”

By this time Harry was heartily regretting that he had been rusticated. There seemed to be every prospect of finding himself embroiled in just the sort of situation he would most wish to avoid. He said uneasily: “Yes, but I don’t see what I can do.”

Charis did not appear to have any very clear idea either, for while, in one breath, she begged him not to divulge her confidence to Frederica, in the next she charged him with the office of persuading her to look with a kindly eye upon Endymion, and to forbid her to approach Alverstoke.

By no stretch of the imagination could Harry conjure up a vision of himself forbidding Frederica to do that, or anything else; but he naturally did not say so. Nor did he tell Charis that while it was not wholly impossible that Frederica would be swayed by his persuasion it was extremely unlikely that she would be. He said instead that he would do his best, and faithfully fulfilled his promise at the first opportunity that offered. He told Frederica that he wouldn’t wonder at it if Endymion, whom he described as a trump, and quite up to the hub, wasn’t just the man for Charis.

“A trump!” exclaimed Frederica. “Because he’s a Melton man, and has an eye to a hound? Harry, how can you be so absurd? He’s nothing but a handsome moonling!”

“Oh, he don’t want for sense!” said Harry. “I don’t say he’s one of the longheaded ones, but — dash it, Freddy! there’s precious little in Charis’s cockloft!”

She was unable to deny this, but said: “The more reason for her to marry a man of superior sense! Surely you must perceive — Harry, I do beg of you not to encourage her in this nonsense! You must know what she is! She may have been dazzled by his appearance — I don’t know, but I think it very likely, for I will allow him to be a remarkably fine young man, and she has, most unfortunately, seen him in full regimentals — but if he were to be removed from her sight she would very soon forget all about him! My dear, you cannot, in all seriousness, wish your sister to throw herself away on a personable nodcock of small fortune and no prospects worthy of a moment’s consideration!”

“I don’t know that,” objected Harry. “He’s Alverstoke’s heir, isn’t he?”

“Yes, at present he is. But when Alverstoke marries, and has sons, what then, pray?”

“Oh, I shouldn’t think he would!” said Harry. “Well, he’s quite old now, isn’t he?”

“Old?” she ejaculated. “If you consider a man of seven-and-thirty old, you must be a bigger greenhead than I knew! He is in the prime of life!”

Slightly taken aback, he said: “Well, past the age of falling into Parson’s mousetrap, at all events! I should think he must be a confirmed bachelor, wouldn’t you? Dash it, there must have been hundreds of females on the scramble for him any time these dozen years, and more!”

She replied, in a colourless voice: “Very likely!” and immediately turned the subject, asking him if he did not feel that Mr Navenby, with all the advantages of birth, fortune, and amiability, would be an ideal husband for Charis.

Unfortunately, Harry had not taken a fancy to Mr Navenby. Having himself no ambition to sport a figure in the world of fashion, he was much inclined to regard with contempt even such mild aspirants to dandyism as Mr Navenby. He exclaimed: “What, that bandbox creature? I should hope Charis would have more sense than to marry him! Why, Dauntry is worth a dozen of him!”