"To be fully satisfied shall not be granted thee.... Be valiant in doing as well as suffering things repugnant to nature.... Do that which is against thy inclination and let alone that which thou art inclined to. That which is pleasing to others shall go forward; that thou would’st have shall not succeed. Others shall ask and shall succeed. Thou shalt ask and not obtain." "_Others shall ask and shall succeed_." That sounded like Farquharson. "_Thou shalt ask and not obtain_." Was that herself—an omen of the future? She took up her pen to write a note postponing Farquharson’s visit that evening. For once she must run counter to her husband’s interests; she was in a mood to welcome even the physical roughness with which he was wont to meet her failures to obey him. Just then he entered with a letter, a pencilled note obviously scrawled with great rapidity upon a visiting-card of Dora Beadon’s, enclosed in an envelope. "I met Miss Beadon just now in the street," Brand said. "She asked me to give you this. She said it was very important, and that she wanted a reply at once by wire." He watched her closely as she read the letter. It was short and to the point— "DEAREST EVELYN, "Will you help me? I have asked the one man in the world I want to meet to dine with us to-night, and he has declined on the score of going to you. Do not suggest putting him off—he will guess that I have asked you. But will you have me too? You have often told me that I ought to marry—well, I’ve met the one man in the world who could persuade me, and I owe it all to you. "Evelyn, you must! I count on you. "D.B." "She wants the answer now?" Evelyn repeated dazedly. She put her hand to her head. Calvert’s little gesture on the opera night came back to her; a thousand trivial incidents which pointed the way to further possibilities of intimacy between Dora and Farquharson. "Here’s a telegraph form," said Brand. He pushed it towards her, tapping impatiently on the floor. "Well, what are you waiting for? I thought you were a woman of decision." "Miss Beadon wants to dine here to-night," said Evelyn slowly. The words were wrung from her. Was this the solution of the problem? It was so difficult to judge. She had not meant to see Farquharson again before she left town, but now—— "You are to accept," said Brand, with his hand heavy on her shoulder. "To accept—do you hear?" He stood waiting as she wrote her answer, noticing the hesitating, illegible scrawl, that was so utterly unlike Evelyn’s usual firm hand. "Miss Beadon, 50 Carlton House Terrace, Shall expect you to-night at eight o’clock.—EVELYN." "Good!" he said jubilantly. He took up his hat. "I’ll take it myself. Clever woman! We’re getting thoroughly well in with the Beadons. Miss Dora’s a nice girl, too. What a match she’d be for a man who’s starting in his career. She’d get him to the top of the tree in half the time it would take any one else."