Vernon had asked her whether she was alone. Connecting that inquiry, singular in itself, and singular in his manner of putting it, with the glass of burning liquid, she repeated: "He must have seen Colonel De Craye!" and she stared at the empty glass, as at something that witnessed to something: for Vernon was not your supple cavalier assiduously on the smirk to pin a gallantry to commonplaces. But all the doors are not open in a young lady's consciousness, quick of nature though she may be: some are locked and keyless, some will not open to the key, some are defended by ghosts inside. She could not have said what the something witnessed to. If we by chance know more, we have still no right to make it more prominent than it was with her. And the smell of the glass was odious; it disgraced her. She had an impulse to pocket the spoon for a memento, to show it to grandchildren for a warning. Even the prelude to the morality to be uttered on the occasion sprang to her lips: "Here, my dears, is a spoon you would be ashamed to use in your teacups, yet it was of more value to me at one period of my life than silver and gold in pointing out, etc.": the conclusion was hazy, like the conception; she had her idea. And in this mood she ran down-stairs and met Colonel De Craye on the station steps. The bright illumination of his face was that of the confident man confirmed in a risky guess in the crisis of doubt and dispute. "Miss Middleton!" his joyful surprise predominated; the pride of an accurate forecast, adding: "I am not too late to be of service?" She thanked him for the offer. "Have you dismissed the fly, Colonel De Craye?" "I have just been getting change to pay Mr. Flitch. He passed me on the road. He is interwound with our fates to a certainty. I had only to jump in; I knew it, and rolled along like a magician commanding a genie." "Have I been . . ." "Not seriously, nobody doubts you being under shelter. You will allow me to protect you? My time is yours." "I was thinking of a running visit to my friend Miss Darleton." "May I venture? I had the fancy that you wished to see Miss Darleton to-day. You cannot make the journey unescorted." "Please retain the fly. Where is Willoughby?" "He is in jack-boots. But may I not, Miss Middleton? I shall never be forgiven if you refuse me." "There has been searching for me?" "Some hallooing. But why am I rejected? Besides, I don't require the fly; I shall walk if I am banished. Flitch is a wonderful conjurer, but the virtue is out of him for the next four-and-twenty hours. And it will be an opportunity to me to make my bow to Miss Darleton!" "She is rigorous on the conventionalities, Colonel De Craye." "I'll appear before her as an ignoramus or a rebel, whichever she likes best to take in leading-strings. I remember her. I was greatly struck by her." "Upon recollection!"