"There's a letter," said Miss Morgan, producing one from her pocket. "She wrote it and told me to give it to you; it's eight pages long, and all sorts of things in it--she's very fond of you--keep it and read it. But I tell you one line that's in it, she says she will always feel as a sister to you, or be a sister to you, or words to that effect--that's fatal--once a girl says that she's said the last word." "I don't think she ever cared for me, really," said Mr Bevan--"let us sit down on this seat--no, I don't think she really ever cared for me." "What _made_ you two get engaged" "Why should we not?" "Because you're too much alike; you are both rich, and both steady and well-balanced, you know, and that sort of thing. Likes ought never to get married. Dear--dear--dear--what a pity----" "What?" "I was only thinking of all the love-making there's wasted in the world. Now I know so many girls who would suit you to a T. I'll tell you of one, if you like----" "Thank you, I--um----" "I was thinking of Fanny Lambert," said Miss Morgan in a dreamy voice. "The girl I told you of yesterday----" Now, Mr Bevan was the last man in the world--as I daresay you perceive--to discuss his feelings with any one. But Miss Morgan had a patent method of her own for extracting confidences, of making people talk out, as she would have expressed it herself. "I said to you yesterday that I had never met Miss Lambert: I had reasons connected with some law business for saying so--as a matter of fact, I have met her--once." "Oh, that's quite enough. If you've met Fanny Lambert once, you have met her for ever. Does she like you?--I don't ask you do you like her, for, of course, you do." "I think--she does." "You mustn't think--women hate men that think, they like them to be sure. If a man was only bold enough he could marry any woman on earth." "Is that your opinion?" "'Tis, and my opinion is worth having. What a woman wants most is some one to make up her mind for her. Go and make Fanny's mind up for her; you and she are just suited." "In what way?" "To begin with, you're rich and she's poor." "You said yesterday that she was rich." "Yes, but Pamela told me last night the Lamberts are simply stone-broke. Mr Lambert told her all his affairs, his estates are all encumbered. She says he's just like a child, and wants protecting; so he is, and so's Fanny; they're both a pair of children, and you are just the man to keep Fanny straight, and make her life happy and buy her beautiful clothes and diamonds. Why, she'll be the rage of London, Fanny will, if she's only properly staged--and she's a dear and a good woman, and would make any man happy. My!" Mr Bevan had taken Miss Morgan's hand in his and squeezed it. "Thank you for saying all that," said he. "Few women praise another woman. I shall leave here by this evening's train, of course; I cannot stay here any longer. I will think over what course I will pursue."