Then she told him, at some length, all that she had gleaned of the past and present relations between Lenox and his wife. "Now, do you see how I came to lose sight of everything for the time being?" she concluded, smiling up at him. "So far as I can gather, things seem to be at a deadlock, unless one can persuade him to take the first step forward." "And you want to play Providence, as usual? Is that it?" "Don't laugh at me, Theo! I am in earnest. I would gladly move heaven and earth to put things straight between them." "But this seems a case of moving a Scot. A far tougher job, I can tell you!" "Well, I think I moved him a little to-night; and he is coming round to-morrow for a ride." Desmond frowned; and she made haste to add; "Now that is just where I must have your co-operation, Theo, or I can do nothing. I want you to trust me, and give me a free hand for these next few weeks. Will you, . . please?" "Does that mean I am to let you be about with Lenox as much as you choose?" "Probably not more than I have been so far. I only want to be sure that whatever I do you won't speak to me again as you did to-night." She felt the muscles of his arm tighten. "I think you may feel sure of that much," he said. "But you are asking a very hard thing of me, Honor. Lenox is a thorough good chap; and I don't want to be driven into disliking him. It isn't as if I were a saint, like Paul. I'm just a man, and a grasping one at that! What's more, I am very jealous for you; and I have the right to be. Society doesn't recognise philanthropic motives. It takes you and your acts at their face value . . ." "I know, I know,"--she straightened herself impulsively; her hands clasped, her bare arms laid across his knees. "And I'll be ever so circumspect, dearest, I promise you. But oh, Theo, . . . don't you understand? It is just because we are so blessedly happy, you and I, that the thought of what those two foolish people are missing troubles me so sorely." Such an appeal was irresistible. They had lived deeply enough, these two, to know the real importance of happiness. "Bless your big heart," he answered warmly. "I understand right enough. By all means help 'em if you can. I'll not baulk you. But it's a delicate task; and I don't quite see how you are going to set about it." "Nor do I,--yet. One can only trust to intuition, and the inspiration of the moment. From the little he said, it seems that the first move ought to come from her: and possibly my intimacy with him may help to bring her to her senses. Everything depends, of course, on how much she cares. That's still an unknown quantity. But she dislikes me already; which is a promising sign!--Now I am going to fill your pipe, and pour you out a peg; and we'll enjoy ourselves till it's time for second supper!"