"There's nothing much to tell--as yet," he answered. "You've probably seen that she's been getting steadily more miserable the last few days. I asked her to-night what it was all about, though I knew that she was eating her heart out for this Butler fellow. She would only say that she was unhappy and lonely; and I told her that was all rot, because any number of men would be in love with her if she gave them half a chance. Then she said it was no good, because she couldn't give them any love in return, her heart was dead... The usual rot a girl talks. I told her that, so far as I was concerned, I'd gladly risk all that; and she said she didn't care who she married or what became of her and she wished she'd never been born... That," said Will, "was nearer by a long chalk than I've ever been before; and you may take it as absolutely certain that, if she doesn't hear anything of Butler pretty soon... She dried up and began to talk of something else when I tried to pin her to a day, but she was quite decent to me as we drove home." I could say nothing until I had been given time to digest his news. Whoever Will marries must have _some_ money; he has earned nothing since he resigned his post at Morecambe... Perhaps dear Phyllida thinks a little too much about herself to be the perfect wife for Will, but it is not cynical to say that, if you look for perfection in woman or man, you will never marry. One has to consider the balance of advantage... I did most earnestly want to see Will established in life and settled down before those dreadful blackmailing Phentons could make another descent on us. And it would do Phyllida so much good to marry... After all my excitements and alarms, I could not sleep for sheer thankfulness. And, when my tea was brought me and Phyllida of all people came in with it, I felt that now at last my Will must have dropped the handkerchief and she was coming to tell me that she had picked it up. "My dear, what makes you so energetic?," I asked. As a rule she insisted on lying in bed until all hours and having her breakfast brought to her there, _making_ work for my unhappy servants. "I want to know if you can tell me Hilary Butler's address?," she said. "I've never heard it," I told her. "How should I?" "Apparently he came here yesterday. When I went down to get my bag, I found his gloves in the hall. But they only have his initials." I _did_ wish that Phyllida had been less collected and businesslike! Hard, not daring to let herself go... I ought to have _looked_, I suppose, to see that he was leaving nothing behind, but one cannot think of everything. And now I knew that Phyllida would start all over again... Yet one must _expect_ an occasional relapse... "I've never heard it," I told her again.