STEVE, looking things unutterable, ‘How could I help coming?’ AMY, to the rescue, ‘Mother, have you--did you?’ ALICE, meekly, ‘I have told him all.’ STEVE. ‘The Colonel?’ Alice bows her bruised head. AMY, conducting her to a seat, ‘Brave, brave. What has he decided?’ ALICE. ‘He hasn’t decided yet. He is thinking out what it will be best to do.’ STEVE. ‘He knows? Then I am no longer--’ His unfinished sentence seems to refer to Amy. AMY, proudly, ‘Yes, sir, as he knows, you are, as far as I am concerned, now free.’ GINEVRA, in a murmur, ‘It’s almost a pity.’ She turns to her Amy. ‘At least, Amy, this makes you and me friends again.’ We have never quite been able to understand what this meant, but Amy knows, for she puts Ginevra’s hand to her sweet lips. ALICE, who somehow could do without Ginevra to-night, ‘Cosmo is waiting for you, Miss Dunbar, to see you home.’ GINEVRA, with a disquieting vision of her landlady, ‘I must go.’ She gives her hand in the coldest way to Mrs. Grey. Then, with a curtsey to Steve that he can surely never forget, ‘Mr. Rollo, I am sure there is much good in you. Darling Amy, I shall be round first thing in the morning.’ STEVE. ‘Now that she has gone, can we--have a talk?’ ALICE, looking down, ‘Yes, Steve.’ AMY, gently, ‘Mother, what was that you called him?’ ALICE. ‘Dear Amy, I forgot. Yes, Mr. Rollo.’ STEVE. ‘Then, Alice--’ AMY. ‘This lady’s name, if I am not greatly mistaken, is Mrs. Grey. Is it not so, mother?’ ALICE. ‘Yes, Amy.’ STEVE. ‘As you will; but it is most important that I say certain things to her at once.’ ALICE. ‘Oh, Mr. Rollo. What do you think, dear?’ AMY, reflecting, ‘If it be clearly understood that this is good-bye, I consent. Please be as brief as possible.’ Somehow they think that she is moving to the door, but she crosses only to the other side of the room and sits down with a book. One of them likes this very much. STEVE, who is not the one, ‘But I want to see her alone.’ AMY, the dearest of little gaolers, ‘That, I am afraid, I cannot permit. It is not that I have not perfect confidence in you, mother, but you must see I am acting wisely.’ ALICE. ‘Yes, Amy.’ STEVE, to his Alice, ‘What has come over you? You don’t seem to be the same woman.’ AMY. ‘That is just it; she is not.’ ALICE. ‘I see now only through Amy’s eyes.’ AMY. ‘They will not fail you, mother. Proceed, sir.’ Steve has to make the best of it. STEVE. ‘You told him, then, about your feelings for me?’ ALICE, studying the carpet, ‘He knows now exactly what are my feelings for you.’ STEVE, huskily, ‘How did he take it?’ ALICE. ‘Need you ask?’ STEVE. ‘Poor old boy. I suppose he wishes me to stay away from your house now.’ ALICE. ‘Is it unreasonable?’ STEVE. ‘No, of course not, but--’ ALICE. ‘Will it be terribly hard to you, St--Mr. Rollo?’ STEVE. ‘It isn’t that. You see I’m fond of the Colonel, I really am, and it hurts me to think he thinks that I--It wasn’t my fault, was it?’ AMY. ‘Ungenerous.’