Torrance checked him with a lifted hand. "That is not what I mean. It is fortunate for most of us that women of her kind believe the best of us and can forgive a good deal. I am not speaking generally: do you know any special reason--one that may make trouble for both of you? It's a plain question, and you understand it. If you do, we'll go into the thing right now, and then, if it can be got over, never mention it again." Clavering sat silent, knowing well that delay might be fatal, and yet held still by something he had heard in the old man's voice and seen in his eyes. However, he had succeeded in signally defeating one blackmailer. "Sir," he said, very slowly, "I know of no reason now." Torrance had not moved his eyes from him. "Then," he said, "I can only take your word. You are one of us and understand the little things that please girls like Hetty. If she will take you, you can count on my good will." Clavering made a little gesture of thanks. "I ask nothing more, and may wait before I urge my suit; but it seems only fair to tell you that my ranching has not been very profitable lately and my affairs----" Torrance cut him short. "In these things it is the man that counts the most, and not the dollars. You will not have to worry over that point, now you have told me I can trust Hetty to you." He said a little more on the same subject, and then Clavering went out with unpleasantly confused sensations through which a feeling of degradation came uppermost. He had not led an exemplary life, but pride had kept him clear of certain offences, and he had as yet held his word sacred when put upon his honour. It was some minutes before he ventured to join Hetty and Miss Schuyler, who he knew by the sound of the piano were in the hall. Hetty sat with her fingers on the keyboard, the soft light of the lamps in the sconces shining upon her--very pretty, very dainty, an unusual softness in the eyes. She turned towards Clavering. "You went in to get it"--touching the music--"just because you heard me say I would like those songs. A four days' ride, and a blizzard raging on one of them!" she said. Clavering looked at her gravely with something in his eyes that puzzled Miss Schuyler, who had expected a wittily graceful speech. "You are pleased with them?" he said. "Yes," said the girl impulsively. "But I feel horribly mean because I sent you, although, of course, I didn't mean to. It was very kind of you, but you must not do anything of that kind again." Clavering, who did not appear quite himself, watched her turn over the music in silence, for though the last words were spoken quietly, there was, he and Miss Schuyler fancied, a definite purpose behind them. "Then, you will sing one of them?" he said.