"Will you please lock the padlock? It's not--safe--to leave the gate open." Her smile had come into the open--it was on the red lips now! For all his agitation Roger was not blind to its meaning. His hand was to lock the gate against his friend and chief! But the smile and the eyes commanded. He obeyed. It was the first really satisfactory moment which the contest had brought to the Marchesa--some small instalment of consolation for the treason of her friends. Roger had been honestly in love once with a guileless maiden--who had promptly and quite unguilefully refused him; his experience did not at all fit him to cope with the Marchesa. She, of course, was merciless: was he not of the hated house? As an individual, however, he appeared to be comely and agreeable. They walked on side by side--not very quickly. The Marchesa's eyes were now downcast. Roger was able to steal a glance at her profile; he could compare it to nothing less than a Roman Empress on an ancient silver coin. "I suppose you've been taught to think me a very rude and unneighborly person, haven't you, Mr. Wilbraham? At least I suppose you're Mr. Wilbraham? You don't look old enough to be that learned Mr. Stabb the Vicar told me about. Though he said Mr. Stabb was absolutely delightful--how I should love to know him, if only--!" She broke off, sighing deeply. "Yes, my name's Wilbraham. I'm Lynborough's secretary. But--er--I don't think anything of that sort about you. And--and I've never heard Lynborough say anything--er--unkind." "Oh, Lord Lynborough!" She gave a charming little shrug, accompanied with what Roger, from his novel-reading, conceived to be a _moue_. "Of course I--I know that you--you think you're right," he stammered. She stopped on the path. "Yes, I do think I'm right, Mr. Wilbraham. But that's not it. If it were merely a question of right, it would be unneighborly to insist. I'm not hurt by Lord Lynborough's using this path. But I'm hurt by Lord Lynborough's discourtesy. In my country women are treated with respect--even sometimes (she gave a bitter little laugh) with deference. That doesn't seem to occur to Lord Lynborough." "Well, you know----" "Oh, I can't let you say a word against him, whatever you may be obliged to think. In your position--as his friend--that would be disloyal; and the one thing I dislike is disloyalty. Only I was anxious"--she turned and faced him--"that you should understand my position--and that Mr. Stabb should too. I shall be very glad if you and Mr. Stabb will use the path whenever you like. If the gate's locked you can manage the wall!" "I'm--I'm most awfully obliged to you--er--Marchesa--but you see----" "No more need be said about that, Mr. Wilbraham. You're heartily welcome. Lord Lynborough would have been heartily welcome too, if he would have approached me properly. I was open to discussion. I received orders. I don't take orders--not even from Lord Lynborough."