He did not answer for a second or two; when he did, his manner was quite changed. "I rather think I know what both you and Natalie would have me do, although you won't say so explicitly. And if you and she had come to me with this proposal, do you think there would have been any difficulty? I should have been satisfied if she had put her hand in mine, and said, 'Thank you.' Then I should have reminded her that she was sacrificing something too." He relapsed into silence again; Lord Evelyn was vaguely conscious that the minutes were passing by, and that his friend seemed as far off as ever from any decision. "You remember the old-fashioned rose-garden, Evelyn?" "At the beeches? Yes." "Don't you think Natalie would like the view from that side of the house? And if she chose that side, I was thinking of having a conservatory built all the length of the rooms, with steps opening out into the rose-garden. She could go out there for a stroll of a morning." So these had been his dreams. "If I go to America," he said presently, "I should expect you to look after the old place a little bit. You might take your sisters there occasionally, and turn them loose; it wants a woman's hand here and there. Mrs. Alleyne would put you all right; and of course I should send Waters down, and give up those rooms in Buckingham Street." "But I cannot imagine your going to America, somehow," Lord Evelyn said. "Surely there is plenty for you to do here." "I will say this of Lind, that he is not an idle talker. What he says he means. Besides, Molyneux can take up my work in the North; he is the very man." Again silence. It was now half-past seven. "I wish, though, it had been something more exciting," Brand said. "I should not have minded having a turn at the Syrian business; I am not much afraid of risking my neck. There is not much danger in Philadelphia." "But look here, Brand," said Lord Evelyn, regarding him attentively. "You are speaking with great equanimity about your going to America; possibly you might like the change well enough; but do I understand you that you are prepared to go alone?" Brand looked up; he understood what was meant. "If I am ordered--yes." He held out his right hand; on the third finger there was a massive gold ring--a plain hoop, without motto or design whatever. "There," said he, "is the first ring I ever wore. It was given to me this afternoon, to remind me of a promise; and that promise is to me more binding than a hundred oaths." He rose with a sigh. "Ah, well, Evelyn, whatever happens we will not complain. There have been compensations." "But you have not told me what answer you mean to give to Lind." "Suppose I wait until I see him before deciding?" "Then you will say, No. You have allowed your distrust of him to become a sort of mania, and the moment you see him the mere sight of him will drive you into antagonism."