"You said that before. You should get out of the way of repeating yourself, Beckley." "One up," admitted Jimmy. "I shouldn't let her mope if I were you. When girls are in that state they want amusing. She was quite lively at first this morning, and I was going to try and buck her up a bit after we'd played a set or two. But she went in before I could get to work. It comes over them sometimes, you know. I shouldn't wonder if she weren't having a good blub at this very moment. It takes 'em like that." "You seem to know a lot about it for a man of your age." "Well, I do know a bit. I don't mind telling you, Grafton, as we're pals, and I know it won't go any further, that I was jolly well struck on a girl last winter. Used to meet her in the hunting-field and all that. I'm not sure I didn't save her life once. She was going straight for a fence where there was a harrow lying in the field just the other side that she couldn't see. I shouted out to her just in time." "How did you know the harrow was there?" "'Cos it happened to be on our own place, fortunately, and I remembered it. 'Course it was nothing that I did, really, but she'd have taken a nasty toss, I expect, even if she hadn't killed herself. She went quite white, and thanked me in a way that--well it showed what she thought of it. I believe if I'd said something then--she--I don't think she'd have minded." "Why didn't you?" "Oh, I don't know. I suppose I wasn't quite ready." "You're generally ready enough." "Ah, you don't know how it takes you, Grafton. You wait till your time comes. That girl could have done anything with me, as long as it kept on. She came to a ball we had that night, and I'd picked up a bit then. I'd made up my mind that if I'd done her a good turn I'd get something for it." "What did you get?" "Ah, you want to know too much. But I don't mind telling you that I danced with her four times, and she chucked over a fellow in his third year at Oxford for me." "Was that all you got?" "No, it wasn't. But I shan't tell you any more. It wouldn't be fair to the girl. It's all come to an end now, but I'm not going to give her away." "Do I know her?" "I can't tell you that either. You might spot who it was, and that wouldn't be quite fair to her. Fact of the matter is I rather fancy I left off before she did. That's the sort of thing girls don't like having known." "Why did you leave off?" "Oh, I don't know. She promised to write to me when I went back to Eton,--there, I've let that out--and she didn't do it for I don't know how long. I was rather sick about it, and when she did write I answered her rather coldly. I thought she'd write again and want to know what the matter was. But she didn't. That cooled me off, I suppose, and when I came back this time--well, I found there were other girls I liked better."