"It was a very strange thing for anybody to do, Barry." "Except you----" "Yes, except me! Oh, you _do_ think I did it!" "Hush, sweetheart, don't talk so loud. Now, listen, Natalie. You're in a tight place. There's no use denying it, you are. Now I want you to promise me to do exactly as I tell you, in every instance. You trust me to do only what is best for both of us, don't you?" "For both of us--yes, Barry." The blue eyes were very sad, but the soft voice did not falter. "That's a trump, my own little trump! There are some dark hours ahead, darling. I don't know just how things will turn. But I'm tying to head off trouble, and I hope to succeed." "Barry, Eugene Courtenay didn't kill Eric, did he?" "No, Natalie, he didn't. That clairvoyant business was all poppycock." "Then how did she read those questions, Barry? I think that was wonderful." "It was, Natalie. I concede you that. She couldn't have used any trickery there--there was absolutely no chance." "She really read them, then, by clairvoyant sight?" "I don't see any other explanation." "Nor do I. Then, why wasn't her vision of the--the scene in the studio, the truth?" "I don't say it wasn't. I don't say but what somebody did slip past Joyce and get into the room that way. But it wasn't Courtenay." "I don't think it was, either." "Of course you don't. Now, my own little girl, remember, you've promised me----" "To love, honour and obey you----" "You darling!" and Natalie's speech was interrupted by an impulsive kiss. "You blessed angel! But you mustn't say such things, they unnerve me--and I've a hard row to hoe, my girl." "Can't I help?" "Only by doing the things you just promised to do. I want you to, of course; it was only the suggestion in the phrase you used that drove me crazy! Some day, sweetheart, you shall promise before witnesses; but just now, swear to me alone, that you will obey my least dictate in this--this trouble." "I will, Barry," and, solemnly, Natalie lifted her scarlet, curved lips for the kiss that sealed the compact. "Mr. Roberts is here," said Joyce, looking in at the door; "he wants to see Natalie." "Oh, I can't see him!" and Natalie clung tremblingly to Barry, "what shall I do?" "Do just as I tell you, dearest. See him, of course. And----" "Then I'll have to dress. Go on down, Barry, and talk to him till I come." Natalie seemed to turn brave all in a moment at Barry's words. Stannard went downstairs, and Joyce helped the girl to slip into a house-gown. "A pretty one," she stipulated. "I want him to like me." "As if any one could help doing that," and Joyce selected a little grey velvet, with lots of soft lace falling away from the round-cut bodice. "There," she said, as Natalie hastily twisted up her hair and thrust a couple of shell pins in it, "you look a dream! a demure little dream. Natalie, be careful, won't you?" The girl gave Joyce a long look, and said softly, "Yes--for his sake." Then she went slowly downstairs.