But Aimée read rightly the lowering cloud on the suitor’s brow and held her ground, resisting Fanny’s attempt to draw her away, and looking up with her clear glance into the suspicious eyes bent on her. “You think, perhaps,” she said, meeting his suspicions boldly, “that I am saying this to shield Fanny; that it was not I who met Mr. Kyrle last night. But you are mistaken. It was I. I will swear it, if you like.” “There is no need of that,” said Mr. Meredith, still somewhat suspicious, but again disarmed by those candid eyes. “I should be satisfied by your word. Only, it is strange--” He paused--for at that moment the door opened, and a servant appeared, saying: “If you please, Miss Berrien, Mr. Kyrle asks to see you.” VI. Fanny’s courage was of good metal that it did not fail altogether at this juncture. She felt for a moment as if it must, and if Mr. Kyrle had followed the servant into the room it is certain that she would have thrown up her game in despair. Thought is so quick that even in the midst of her consternation there was a flash of keen regret that she had not followed Aimée’s advice and told Mr. Meredith the truth; but it was too late for candor now. What would have been graceful confidence an hour before, would now seem only the desperate resource of exposure. She looked at the door, fully expecting to see Lennox’s face; but when she understood that he would not enter without permission, her courage rose to the difficulty and her ready wit perceived a way of escape. “It is _you_ whom he wishes to see, Aimée,” she said, addressing that terror-stricken young person. “Go to him at once, and take him into Mrs. Shreve’s sitting-room. You can speak to him there quietly. But pray _make him go away_ as soon as possible. Remember, mamma may be down any moment.” She fairly pushed Aimée from the room before the girl could utter a word or collect her thoughts, and then turned with great self-possession to Mr. Meredith. “He is an impetuous young man, who will not take ‘No’ when it has been said to him,” she observed, “so it is best that Aimée should say it over again herself. He thinks, no doubt, that I am influencing her.” “You should influence her,” said Mr. Meredith. “You should see that there is an end to such folly at once.” “I _have_ influenced her,” said Fanny, very truthfully. “But for me, she would not have sent him away last night. And so you were positive that it was _me_ whom you saw!” she went on, with absolutely mirthful eyes. “It is true, Aimée is as tall as I am; but then she is so slight, and so unformed--” “How could I tell that at night?” said Mr. Meredith. “And how could I think of her? She always seemed to me a mere child. I confess that I thought only of you--and a most miserable night I spent in consequence,” he added, feelingly.