She had tried to tell him about Justin--about their compact of friendship--yet the words had died on her lips. Suppose he did not understand? Suppose he did not approve? Suppose he should forbid her to have a big brother--as he had forbidden her to fly in the "Gray Gull" with Justin? She dared not risk such a catastrophe. She clung desperately to the thought of Justin's youth and gayety. No, Anthony might not understand, so why should she discuss it with him? At dinner Anthony roused himself and had played the gracious host. Yet on the return trip he had relapsed into silence, and she had again felt that sense of desperate failure. Oh, what kind of wife was she going to make for this grave Anthony, this great Dr. Anthony, who loved her and whom she loved? It was on the return trip, too, that he had spoken of their coming marriage. "Why can't it be soon, Bettina?" he had said. "Why should we wait, you and I?" She knew that there was no good reason. That a few weeks ago she would have been radiant at the prospect. Yet she told him, nervously, that if he didn't mind, it would be better to wait--a little. There were things to do. And he had acquiesced, because of his masculine ignorance of the things which must really be done. "The big house will be ready," he said, "when you are ready." As she changed her gown on her return home, Bettina meditated soberly on the situation. Diana, when they had talked together, had pointed out that the women who married such men as Anthony must be content to make sacrifices. "He belongs to the world, dear child," she had said; "you must remember that, if you would be happy. It must be your joy to help him in his great work." Bettina was beginning to be a little afraid of the future. It was not that she did not love Anthony--why, Anthony was the best man in the whole wide world. But everybody expected so much of her, and she was not quite sure that she should come up to the full measure of their expectations. As she came down the stairs, Justin was waiting for her. "Oh, you little beauty," his heart whispered; "you little white and gold beauty." She had twisted her hair low on her neck, and her delicate lace mantle fell about her like folded gossamer wings. "We will sit in the library," she said. "I have had a fire built. It is so damp and foggy outside. Sophie said you had to come in early from your sail on account of it." "We came near not coming in at all," Justin told her. "Doris was terribly scared. But Mrs. Martens was as cool as possible. It's rather risky business outside on such a day. The rocks are like needle points under the water." "I'm a terrible coward." "You only think you are. When are you going to fly with me?" "Never--please." He had placed a chair for her by the fire, and stood leaning over the back of it. "Never is a long time--little sister." "But I should be afraid." "Not with me." Silence.