Pauline did not quarrel now, because she thought it might gratify Michael Fane to see the discord he had created, but she treasured up her anger and knew that, when later she and Guy were alone, she would say whatever hard things now rested unsaid. Next morning Guy asked her if she would be very cross to hear that he was going to town for a night. "With your friend?" she asked. He nodded, and she turned away from him clouded blue eyes. "It is unfair of you to hate Michael," he pleaded. "I told him you thought he was cold, and he said at once, 'do tell her I'm not cold, and say how lovely I think her.' He said you were very lovely and strange ... a fairy's child." Still Pauline would not turn her head. "I told him that you were indeed a fairy's child," Guy went on, "and I told him how sometimes I felt I should go off my head with the responsibility your happiness was to me. For indeed, Pauline, it is, it is a responsibility." She felt she must yield when Guy spoke like that, but then unfortunately he began to talk about his friend again and sullen jealousy returned. "Listen, Pauline. I'm going up to town because Michael wants me to see this girl he is going to marry. He was rather pathetic about her. It seems that ... well ... it's a sort of misalliance, and his people are angry about it, and really I must be loyal and go up to town and help him with ... well ... you see really all his friends have been unsympathetic about her." "I expect they've every right to be," said Pauline. "I do think you're unreasonable. I'm only going away for a night." "Oh, go, go, go," she cried, and pulling herself free of his caress, she left him by the margin of the stream disconsolate and perplexed. Pauline, when Guy had gone to London with his friend, began to fret herself with the fear that he would not come back, and she was very remorseful at the thought that if he did not she would be responsible. She half expected to get a letter next day to tell her of his determination to remain in town for good, and when no letter came she exaggerated still more all her fears and longed to send him a telegram to ask if he had arrived safely, railing at herself for having let him leave her without knowing where he was going to stay. By the following afternoon all the jealousy of Michael had been swallowed up in a passionate desire for Guy's return, and when about three o'clock she saw him coming through the wicket in the high grey wall her heart beat fast with relief. She said not a word about Guy's journey, nor did she even ask if his friend had come back with him. She cared for nothing but to show by her tenderness how penitent she was for that yesterday which had torn such a rent in the perfection of their love. Guy was visibly much relieved to find that her jealous fit had passed away, and when she asked for an account of his journey he gave it to her most eagerly.