“You are in some other paper too, and will be in half-a-dozen more in the course of the next fortnight. Men who have committed themselves to an opinion are always in trouble with the newspapers; some because they cannot get into them, others because they cannot keep out. If you had put forward a thundering revolutionary manifesto, not a daily paper would have dared allude to it: there is no cowardice like Fleet Street cowardice! I must run off; I have much to do before I start, and it is getting on for three. Good-bye, Lady Brandon, and everybody.” He shook Jane’s hand, dealt nods to the rest rapidly, making no distinction in favor of Agatha, and hurried away. They stared after him for a moment and then Erskine ran out and went downstairs two steps at a time. Nevertheless he had to run as far as the avenue before he overtook his man. “Trefusis,” he said breathlessly, “you must not go by the four o’clock train.” “Why not?” “Miss Lindsay is going to town by it.” “So much the better, my dear boy; so much the better. You are not jealous of me now, are you?” “Look here, Trefusis. I don’t know and I don’t ask what there has been between you and Miss Lindsay, but your engagement has quite upset her, and she is running away to London in consequence. If she hears that you are going by the same train she will wait until to-morrow, and I believe the delay would be very disagreeable. Will you inflict that additional pain upon her?” Trefusis, evidently concerned, looking doubtfully at Erskine, and pondered for a moment. “I think you are on a wrong scent about this,” he said. “My relations with Miss Lindsay were not of a sentimental kind. Have you said anything to her--on your own account, I mean?” “I have spoken to her on both accounts, and I know from her own lips that I am right.” Trefusis uttered a low whistle. “It is not the first time I have had the evidence of my senses in the matter,” said Erskine significantly. “Pray think of it seriously, Trefusis. Forgive my telling you frankly that nothing but your own utter want of feeling could excuse you for the way in which you have acted towards her.” Trefusis smiled. “Forgive me in turn for my inquisitiveness,” he said. “What does she say to your suit?” Erskine hesitated, showing by his manner that he thought Trefusis had no right to ask the question. “She says nothing,” he answered. “Hm!” said Trefusis. “Well, you may rely on me as to the train. There is my hand upon it.” “Thank you,” said Erskine fervently. They shook hands and parted, Trefusis walking away with a grin suggestive of anything but good faith. CHAPTER XVII