Isobel assented rather coldly, but her heart beat quicker. Now that the chance came--by no contrivance of hers and unexpectedly--she was suddenly afraid of it, and afraid of what seemed a sudden revelation of the strength of her feeling for Harry. She had meant to play with him, to show him that, if she was to be left out of the reckoning, it was by her own choice; to make him see her power fully for once before she hid it for ever. Could she carry out her dangerous programme? Harry had been at his gayest that night, just in the mood which had carried him to most of his conquests--gaily daring, skirting topics of gallantry with defiant ease, provoking, yet never offending. If his eyes spoke true, he was in the mood still. "Only a week more!" he said. "Then papa-in-law comes back, and I go electioneering. Well, I suppose we've had enough of what they call dalliance." He sank into an armchair by the fireplace, sighing in pleasant indolence, lolling gracefully. The long windows were open to the terrace; the evening air came in cool and sweet. She looked out on the terrace; Vivien and Andy had wandered away; they were not in sight. Vivien's wrap lay on a chair close to the window. "Vivien ought to have taken her wrap," said Isobel absently, as she came back and stood by the mantelpiece opposite Harry. Her cheeks were a little flushed and her eyes bright to-night; she responded to Harry's gaiety, his mood acted on hers. "What are you going to do after we're--after the break-up here?" he asked suddenly. She smiled down at him, pausing a moment before she answered. "You seem quite sure that there will be a complete break-up," she said. He looked hard at her; she smiled steadily. "Well, I know that Vivien won't be here," he said. "Oh, I know that much too, Mr. Harry. But I suppose her father will." "I suppose that too. Which leaves only one of the party unaccounted for." "Yes, only one of us unaccounted for." "One that may be Miss Wellgood's companion, but could hardly be Mr. Wellgood's. He can scarcely claim the privileges of old age yet." "You think I ought to be looking out for another situation? But supposing--merely supposing--Mr. Wellgood didn't agree?" Harry flung his cigar into the grate. "Do you mean--?" he said slowly. She gave a little laugh. He laughed too, rather uneasily. "I say, you can't mean--?" "Can't I? Well, I only said 'supposing.' And I think you chaffed me about it yourself once. You forget what you say to women, Mr. Harry." "Should you like it?" "Beggars mustn't be choosers. We can't all be as lucky as Vivien!" "Was I serious? No--I mean--are you? Wellgood!" "Why shouldn't I be? Or why shouldn't Mr. Wellgood? It seems absurd?" "Not in Wellgood, anyhow." "Beggars mustn't be choosers." "You a beggar! Why, you're--" "What am I?" "Shall I break the rules?" She gave him a long look before answering. "No, don't." Her voice shook a little, her composure was less perfect.