"I am very, very sorry," said Dolly, after a short pause. "Poor Mrs. Darche!" exclaimed Vanbrugh. "After all these months of freedom she has had, it will break her heart." "I was not thinking of Marion," answered Dolly. "Of whom, then?" asked Vanbrugh. "Of--of--some one else." "Yes, I know." "Yes," repeated Dolly with marked sympathy. "Will you not let me make you a nice cup of tea, Mr. Vanbrugh?" "No, thanks." "Will you not light a cigarette?" asked Dolly. "Here are some of your own." "No, thanks," answered Vanbrugh absently. "I have just smoked." "Do sit down and warm yourself," said Dolly, pushing a chair towards the fire. "Well--thanks--I suppose Mrs. Willoughby will be gone some minutes. Have you thought of what might happen if Darche were alive?" he asked, reverting to the subject uppermost in his mind. "I do not like to think of it. But I cannot help thinking of it," she answered almost inaudibly. "I know that I cannot, and I hate myself and everybody." "We may have to think of it seriously in three or four hours," said Vanbrugh. "Brown will bring me word. He will dine with me, and I will be within reach in case anything happens." "What a head you have!" exclaimed Dolly. "You ought to be a general." "It is simple enough, it seems to me, as simple as going back to stop an express train when there has been an accident on the line." "Yes, but it is always the one particular man who has more sense than the rest who thinks of stopping the express train." "I suppose so," answered Vanbrugh indifferently. "The man who has his eyes open. It is odd, is it not, that the happiness of so many people should be at stake on one day?" "So many?" "Well, three at least." "Three? Are there not four?" asked Dolly, with a smile. "There is Stubbs, of course," said Vanbrugh thoughtfully; "not to mention a lot of people who would not be particularly glad to see Darche back, on general principles. Well, I am sorry for them all, but I was not thinking of them especially." "Whom were you thinking of?" "Some one not concerned in the matter--some one, I cannot say nearest; think of something that rhymes with it. You are fond of hymns and that sort of thing." "Dearest?" suggested Dolly. "Yes, 'dearest'; that rhymes, does it not?" "Yes, that rhymes," assented Dolly, with a little sigh. "Whom were you thinking of?" she asked. "A person." "What an answer! And what an expression! I suppose the name of the person is a profound secret?" "It has been a secret for some time," said Vanbrugh. "Oh!--then you have a faithful disposition?" asked Dolly with a laugh. "I hope so," answered Vanbrugh, smiling. "Any other virtues?" "Lots," he laughed in his turn. "I am so glad." "Why?" "Virtue makes people so nice and safe," said Dolly, "and helps them to bear misfortune, and to do almost everything except enjoy themselves." "What an appalling code for a Sunday school teacher!" "Do not laugh. I have had an offer."