"He may not want to see me," said Helen. "He does, I asked him," answered Lavinia coolly. Helen's cheeks were glowing, her eyes shining. "I'll go and change. Wait here for me, I won't be long," she said imperiously. "No, I think I'll go on now and you can follow when you're ready," suggested Lavinia. Helen caught her hand. "Please no," she said. "Please wait. I don't want to go alone. I'd rather go with you." "You're shy," said Lavinia accusingly. Helen was defiant and happy. "And what if I am?" she said. "I'm going to ask Geoffrey to marry me, and I'd rather have a chaperon there to make it more seemly. Wait here for me." She rushed upstairs to dress, and came down in the green frock and hat she had worn to Lavinia's wedding. "Look," she said. "Sheer sentiment made me put this on." Lavinia looked at her standing in the doorway, tall and upright, the rich green of her frock bringing out all the colour in her hair and skin. "You're lovely," she said impulsively. "Really lovely. No wonder Geoffrey's quite mad about you." "Is he?" asked Helen. "I do hope he is, I want him to be. You really think then I needn't be nervous as to whether he'll accept me or not." She laughed. "Come on, Lavinia," she said. "I can't wait. I've had nothing for a month. Neither my painting nor Geoffrey and evidently I can't have one without the other, so even if they fight I'll have to have both." Suddenly her face sobered. "It'll be a cat and dog life. Everything I meant it not to be, but damn it, I can't help it; I can't do without him." III If Mrs. Greene was distressed by her son's engagement she concealed it perfectly after the first moment, when, opening the door of Geoffrey's bedroom, she was affronted by the sight of a young woman almost a stranger to her, sitting on the floor beside Geoffrey's bed, one arm round his neck, a long leg sprawling, her little green hat tossed on the hearthrug. As Edith Greene stood in the doorway her thoughts were bitter, her expression bleak; but with undeniable gallantry she bowed to the inevitable, twisted her face into a semblance of happy surprise, and coming forward took Helen's hand as she scrambled to her feet. "My dears," she said, "this is very unexpected. I didn't even know you knew Miss Guest, Geoffrey, but I mustn't call you Miss Guest any longer; it's Helen, isn't it, dear?" She smiled kindly, sat down on the edge of Geoffrey's bed and said: "Now tell me all about it." It was a magnificent recovery. Geoffrey looked guilty and miserable, but Helen was filled with admiration. She stood up tall and unembarrassed, and leaning against the mantel-piece explained the situation in her quiet voice. "We really owe you an apology, Mrs. Greene. Of course you must think it quite unseemly for me to be here like this, when I've never been in your house before, but everything has happened very suddenly. It's even been a surprise to us, hasn't it, darling?"