Danby returned to Jersey immediately after seeing Cynthia to London. She would not allow him to go to Lafer until she had smoothed the way with the Admiral; and being so far as yet unable to realise his happiness, that the moment she vanished he thought she must be a vision, he went back to the Kerrs as tangible proofs to the contrary. He also wished to hear more about her. She had said nothing of her surroundings, and when he referred to Kerr on the one momentous point as her guardian _pro tem._, he had been struck by something odd in his look; while Mrs. Kerr declared, with what sounded a hysterical sob, that she would never chaperon a young lady again. He was too much accustomed to the unaccountable in the moods of all sorts and conditions of men to attach much importance to an indirect impression. Still it was expedient to be practical and to prepare himself for unlooked-for conditions. Until he met her he was far indeed from any intention of marrying, and his means were such that the last thing that occurred to him was to speculate about hers. It had delighted her to find her heiress-ship was unsuspected. In his inmost nature Danby had developed diplomacy. He knew it, and often told himself he had missed his vocation; he should have been either a Jesuit or an ambassador. It was the one moral slur which the keen old grief had branded on his soul. He mistrusted, and would never trust again except after the tests of a tactician who knew his ends so surely that he could afford to conceal them. Here his favourite author--Bacon--had fostered knowledge. He knew how 'to lay asleep opposition and to surprise,' how to 'reserve to himself a fair retreat,' and how to 'discover the mind of another.' On these principles he had for many years studied all men. In this spirit he had digested the Kerrs. Only with Cynthia they had failed him. He had thought that if he ever married it would be in this spirit; subtle analysis and synthesis should determine his choice. If judgment threatened desertion he would refortify himself by apparent withdrawal. Experience had not tended to make him fear defeat; he might have married before this had he met with more discouragement. But should such a paradox as discouragement invade his path he would use his arts, his subtleties, his perceptions, and, without flatteries, succeed. Flatteries he loathed. He loathed the women who would have them. His chief delight in the woman of the future was that she too would loathe them, indeed would probably not understand them. But when he saw Cynthia his tactics failed him. She was simple, she was single-minded and transparent--such a woman as he had not conceived; in fact the paradox. He fell in love, but she did not perceive it. Do what he would to show her his feeling, she never did perceive it until he asked her to do so. Afterwards he reproached her a little for a blindness that might have eternally daunted him, but that had he not got speech with her he would have written.