In the awkward silence that followed she said: ‘I must go.’ ‘No, you’re not to go,’ he said gently. ‘Stay and talk to me.’ He paused. ‘The trouble is, I can’t sleep, you know, and it makes me a bit jumpy. I don’t like my thoughts, and they _will_, they _will_ be thought about. But I shall get better in time.’ ‘Poor Julian!’ He allowed his face to relax, and his manner was suddenly quiet and simple, almost happy: the unexpected sympathy had made him cheerful. ‘You mustn’t go, Judith, you must stay to supper.’ ‘I can’t. What will Mariella say?’ ‘Mariella doesn’t say. Whether she _thinks_ is the problem,--or even _feels_. Is she a _very_ remarkable person? Or is it _simply_ arrested development?’ ‘No. I don’t think so.’ ‘Not?’ She smiled to herself, struck with a fancy. ‘Perhaps she’s a fairy, Julian.’ As she said it she grew suddenly thoughtful; for it had flashed upon her that perhaps that was the explanation of Roddy; perhaps he was a fairy, and in that case it was no use--he would never.... ‘A fairy. I never thought of that.’ He mused, pleased with the idea. ‘You know it must mean something, that nobody’s _ever_ suggested giving her a _petit nom_, or curtailing the mouthful; she’s always been Mariella.’ He began humming a little tune in his contentment. Quickly she said: ‘Just to go back to Peter. You don’t mean it, do you? Why should he be wretched? Think of the things you can teach him. You know you’ll love that.’ He looked a trifle dashed; but after a moment his face cleared again, and his eyes smiled kindly at her. ‘Don’t worry. At all events, I’ll see he’s not ill-treated--except in my own way. That is, if she’ll let me. She will. She’s very good-tempered, I must say. She’s never allowed me to quarrel with her. She well might have.’ He looked like brooding again; but seeing her gazing at him anxiously, added: ‘It’s odd how natural it seems to be talking to you alone like this. You haven’t changed a bit. I always remember you listening so solemnly and staring at me. I’m so glad I’ve found you again. I could always talk to you.’ ‘At me,’ she corrected. He made a face at her, but looked cheerful. She had always known how near the edge to venture without upsetting him. He hummed his little tune again, then played it on the piano. ‘I think I made that up.... It’s rather a nice little tune. Perhaps I’ll take up my music seriously again.’ ‘Oh, you must, Julian. It is so well worth it: such a special talent.’ He looked at her with sudden attention. ‘How old are you, Judith?’ ‘Seventeen. Nearly eighteen.’ He studied her. ‘You must put your hair up.’ ‘Must I?’ ‘Yes, because then you’ll be beautiful.’ She was still speechless when Mariella, Martin, two Great Danes and the puppy came in. * * * * * ‘Hullo!’ said Mariella. ‘Still here?’ ‘I’m afraid so. But I’m just going.’ ‘She’s not. She’s staying to supper,’ said Julian.