“You are hopeless. I dread to think of what the end may be. At all events”--she moved her head toward the door and tapped her foot softly on the floor--“you’ll leave him alone.” “I’ll be a pattern. As for him--there is nothing left for me to do. I leave him entirely to you. Marry him. Perhaps you know a pretty girl with a little fortune who would suit me.” She thought of Nancy, and immediately an unreasoning, murderous jealousy of that pink-faced, foolish thing took possession of her. She sat down on the low window-seat. The casement was hooked back, and the new shoots of ivy tickled her chin as she leaned out with a tired groan and looked down at the glistening garden. Then she pulled herself back to every-day detail with a jerk, and got up, saying that she would send him up what was necessary--brushes, soap, and so on. The room had not yet been prepared. The silk quilt was spread gauntly over a blanketless bed. Edred was looking at it and at the dim hangings with idle interest. “You don’t often see a bed like this nowadays,” he said. “It is a state bed, in a way. They were all born in it; they all die in it. Full of ghosts! I’d rather you slept in it than I.” “I’m inured to them--the prison’s full. Not the ghosts of small capitalists who come wringing their hands for their swamped savings; only women and weaklings see ghosts of that kind. It was one ghost of lost opportunity--that tormented me; the ghost of £40,000 collared by Overent and Bladden, who were a shade more clever than I was.” She took up a corner of the patchwork quilt. “It is made,” she said dreamily, “from bits of wedding dresses. Each bride contributed her patches. It is a pretty idea--the people about here are full of fancies.” “You’ll be contributing your patches before long,” he said airily. “By Jove! I, as only brother, must give you away. We never imagined that particular position in the old days, Pam.” “I don’t admit it now.” She shook her pale head. “Oh, why did you come? Why am I fool enough to love you?” “No heroics, dear. I’m fond of you--too fond to stand in your light. I won’t dispute that I’ve some regard for myself, too. Run away now and send me a few things. I want to make myself as decent as these confounded clothes will allow.” She went away. Directly Jethro heard her foot on the stairs he called her, in a masterful way, just as if she already belonged to him. He said, his face shining with hospitality and kinsmanship, how pleased he was. He spoke of driving Edred over to Turle that very day, but she negatived it as skillfully as she could. Then he spoke heartily of the wedding and of Edred’s opportune arrival. She was afraid that he meant to kiss her again; he seemed prone to hearty lover’s kisses, without considering mood or asking for permission. Nettie, bearing a steaming soup tureen, saved her.