Doris said nothing. She fell back slowly in her chair, looking at the tall woman standing over her. Tears came into her eyes--brimmed--overflowed--in silence. Her lips smiled. Rachel Dunstable bent over her in bewilderment. "To have a son," murmured Doris under her breath, "and then to see him ruined like this! No love for him!--no children--no grandchildren for oneself, when one is old--" Her voice died away. "'To have a son'?" repeated Lady Dunstable, wondering--"but you have none!" Doris said nothing. Only she put up her hand feebly, and wiped away the tears--still smiling. After which she shut her eyes. Lady Dunstable gasped. Then the long, sallow face flushed deeply. She walked over to a sofa on the other side of the room, arranged the pillows on it, and came back to Doris. "Will you, please, let me put you on that sofa? You oughtn't to have had this long journey. Of course you will stay here--and Miss Wigram too. It seems--I shall owe you a great deal--and I could not have expected you--to think about me--at all. I can do rude things. But I can also--be sorry for my sins!" Doris heard an awkward and rather tremulous laugh. Upon which she opened her eyes, no less embarrassed than her hostess, and did as she was told. Lady Dunstable made her as comfortable as a hand so little used to the feminine arts could manage. "Now I will send you in some luncheon, and go and talk to Lord Dunstable. Please rest till I come back." * * * * * Doris lay still. She wanted very much to see Arthur, and she wondered, till her head ached, whether he would think her a great fool for her pains. Surely he would come and find her soon. Oh, the time people spent on lunching in these big houses! The vibration of the train seemed to be still running through her limbs. She was indeed wearied out, and in a few minutes, what with the sudden quiet and the softness of the cushions which had been spread for her, she fell unexpectedly asleep. When she woke, she saw her husband sitting beside her--patiently--with a tray on his knee. "Oh, Arthur!--what time is it? Have I been asleep long?" "Nearly an hour. I looked in before, but Lady Dunstable wouldn't let me wake you. She--and he--and I--have been talking. Upon my word, Doris, you've been and gone and done it! But don't say anything! You've got to eat this chicken first." He fed her with it, looking at her the while with affectionate and admiring eyes. Somehow, Doris became dimly aware that she was going to be a heroine. "Have they told you, Arthur?" "Everything that you've told her. (No--not everything!--thought Doris.) You _are_ a brick, Doris! And the way you've done it! That's what impresses her ladyship! She knows very well that she would have muffed it. You're the practical woman! Well, you can rest on your laurels, darling! You'll have the whole place at your feet--beginning with your husband--who's been dreadfully bored without you. There!"