Accordingly, Denborough waited the result with some confidence. Into this personal side of the matter the _Standard_ did not try to follow its rival. Mr. Delane controlled the _Standard_, and he forbade any such attempt, on grounds of careful generality. But the article in the _Chronicle_ was quite enough; it expressed what everyone had been thinking, and very soon the whole town was expecting to hear, simultaneously, that Nellie was out of danger, and that she had given her hand to Dale Bannister. The theory was so strongly and unhesitatingly accepted that the two or three who, mainly out of a love of paradox, put their heads on one side and asked how Miss Delane came to be out in the garden with Dale Bannister, were pooh-poohed and told that they merely showed their ignorance of the usages of society; whereupon they went home and grumbled to their wives, but were heard no more in public places. Dale Bannister flung the _Chronicle_ down on the table with a muttered oath, asking the eternally-asked, never-to-be-answered question, why people could not mind their own business--an unjust query in this case, for it is a reporter's business to mind other people's business. He had just come down from his first interview with Nellie. She was mending rapidly, and was now conscious, although any reference to the events of the fatal night was sternly forbidden; he was not even allowed to thank the friend who, happily, had only risked, not lost, her life for him. He had whispered his joy at finding her doing well, and she had pressed his hand in answer; more than that vigilant attendants prevented. Then he had come downstairs, picked up the _Chronicle_ in the hall, read the article, and gone into the smoking room, where he had found Arthur Angell sitting by the fire, his hands deep in his pockets and his shoulders up to his ears, a picture of woe. "What infernal nonsense!" said Dale, with a vexed laugh. "Do you see how this fellow disposes of us, Arthur?" "Yes, I saw," said Arthur gloomily. "I suppose they're bound to say that. The public loves romance." "I think it's very natural they should say it. Why did she follow you? Why did she risk her life? Why did she ask after you the first moment she was conscious?" "No one but me was being murdered," suggested Dale, with a rather uneasy smile. "We left her here. Why did she go out at all? But it's too plain. I saw it before I had been here a day." "Saw what, man?" asked Dale, passing by Arthur's questionable assertion. "Why, that Nellie--you know. I don't know what you feel, but I know what she feels. It's rough on me having me down----" "I never thought of such a thing," said Dale quickly. "Oh, I suppose not; though how you didn't---- I say, now, before you came to Denborough, didn't you?" "I--I don't think so. We were great friends." Arthur shook his head, and Dale poked the little bit of fire in an impatient way. "How damned crooked things go!" he said.