"Sheila," he said, "Mosenberg told me last night that you met Mr. Ingram and did not speak to him. Now, I didn't mean anything like that. You must not think me unreasonable. All I want is, that he shall not interfere with our affairs and try to raise some unpleasantness between you and me, such as might arise from the interference of even the kindest of friends. When you meet him outside or at any one's house, I hope you will speak to him just as usual." Sheila replied calmly, "If I am not allowed to receive Mr. Ingram here, I cannot treat him as a friend elsewhere. I would rather not have friends whom I can only speak to in the streets." "Very well," said Lavender, wincing under the rebuke, but fancying that she would soon repent her of this resolve. In the mean time, if she would have it so, she should have it so. So that was an end of this question of Mr. Ingram's interference for the present. But very soon--in a couple of days, indeed--Lavender perceived the change that had been wrought in the house in Holland Park to which he had been accustomed to resort. "Cecilia," Mrs. Kavanagh had said on Ingram's leaving, "you must not be rude to Mr. Lavender." She knew the perfect independence of that gentle young lady, and was rather afraid it might carry her too far. "Of course I shall not be, mamma," Mrs. Lorraine had said. "Did you ever hear of such a courageous act as that man coming up to two strangers and challenging them, all on behalf of a girl married to some one else? You know that was the meaning of his visit. He thought I was flirting with Mr. Lavender and keeping him from his wife. I wonder how many men there are in London who would have walked twenty yards to help in such a matter?' "My dear, he may have been in love with that pretty young lady before she was married." "Oh no," said the clear-eyed daughter quietly, but quite confidently. "He would not be so ready to show his interest in her if that were so. Either he would be modest, and ashamed of his rejection, or vain, and attempt to make a mystery about it." "Perhaps you are right," said the mother: she seldom found her daughter wrong on such points. "I am sure I am right, mamma. He talks about her as fondly and frequently and openly as a man might talk about his own daughter. Besides, you can see that he is talking honestly. The man couldn't deceive a child if he were to try. You see everything in his face." "You seem to have been much interested in him," said Mrs. Kavanagh, with no appearance of sarcasm. "Well, I don't think I meet such men often, and that is the truth. Do you?" This was carrying the war into the enemy's country.