David came forward as she was speaking. There was a window above the front door, and as he came out of the shadow, and the light fell on his face, he saw Mary start a little. Her expression changed, and she said in a hesitating manner: “Of course, Elizabeth may be busy, or she may be going out—I really don’t know. Perhaps you had better come another day, David.” He read her clearly enough. She thought that he had been drinking, and hesitated to leave him with her sister. He had been about to say that he could not stop, but her suspicion raised a devil of obstinacy in him, and as Elizabeth came out of her room by way of the dining-room, he advanced to meet her, saying: “Will you give me some tea, Elizabeth, or are you too busy?” “Liz, come here,” said Mary quickly. Her colour had risen at David’s tone. She drew Elizabeth a little aside. “Liz, you’d better not,” she whispered, “he looks so queer.” “Nonsense, Molly.” “I wish you wouldn’t——” “My dear Molly, are you going to begin to chaperone me?” Mary tossed her head. “Oh, if you don’t _mind_,” she said angrily, and went out, leaving Elizabeth with an odd sense of anticipation. Elizabeth found David standing before the writing-table, and looking at himself in the little Dutch mirror which hung above it. He turned as she came in. “Well,” he said bitterly, “has Mary renounced the Bazaar in order to stay and protect you? I’m not really as dangerous as she seems to think, though I am willing to admit that I am not exactly ornamental. Give me some tea, and I’ll not inflict myself on you for long.” Elizabeth smiled. “You know very well that I like having you here,” she said in her friendly voice. “Look at my flowers. Aren’t they well forward? I really think that everything is a fortnight before its time this year. No, not that chair, David. This one is much more comfortable.” Markham was coming in with the tea as Elizabeth spoke. David sat silent. He watched the tiny flame of the spirit-lamp, the mingled flicker of firelight and daylight upon the silver, and the thin old china with its branching pattern of purple and yellow flowers. He drank as many cups of tea as Elizabeth gave him, and she talked a little in a desultory manner, until he had finished, and then sat in a silence that was not awkward, but companionable.