“Major North,” said Lady Haigh, solemnly, “if your insight into character was only equal to your goodwill, you would be a very clever man, but as it is----” there was an expressive pause, then Lady Haigh bent towards him, and spoke very low and distinctly. “You are quite right not to speak to Mr Stratford, it would only do harm; but I think you ought to speak to Miss Keeling herself. What you have told me is news to me, and if I am not mistaken, it will also be news to her. You would tell her, of course, that you had discovered that she was in love with Mr Stratford, and was pining for him, because he would not ask her to marry him. That is the kind of fact about oneself which one has a right to know. Tell her, by all means. I don’t guarantee that you will escape with your life, but a storm clears the air sometimes. On second thoughts, don’t tell her. I really think it would be scarcely safe. Lay your own story before her--without any names, if you like--and see what she says. That is my honest and candid advice, without any kind of joking. If you won’t take it, I fear I can’t help you.” And Lady Haigh rose and went into the house, leaving Dick stupefied. He felt utterly bewildered, and was conscious only that he must have made some egregious mistake, which Lady Haigh had perceived, but would not point out to him for fear of spoiling the game. In spite of her assurance that she was not joking, he yet hesitated to accept her last piece of advice. What possible good could it do to tell Miss Keeling _his_ story, even supposing that he could succeed in finding her alone, and that she would vouchsafe to listen to him? It looked like stealing a march on Stratford, too; but, of course, that was absurd. Stratford was in possession of the field, and if it was no good attempting a serious attack on his position, how could it serve any useful purpose to make a feint of an assault upon it? It could only render Miss Keeling more unhappy still, for Dick felt sure that she would pity even him when she learnt how the words which had escaped her lips in her first grief and despair had gone to his heart. There seemed to be no way out of the dilemma, and Dick decided very quickly that he would not in any case follow Lady Haigh’s counsel, for fear of complicating the situation further. At least he could keep his own feelings in the background, while waiting anxiously for something to turn up that might relieve him from the necessity of taking any step at all. As it happened, however, the explanation he dreaded was precipitated by an event of so much importance that it actually obscured in his mind for the time the whole question he had discussed with Lady Haigh.