"That's just it," said Rupert irritably. "If it had been Clarence now, one could understand her looking as if nobody had ever been going to be married before." As he spoke, the last-named person crossed the room to us. "What's the matter, Rupert?" he said. "You look rather at war with the world. I fancy I caught the sound of my own name--have I done anything to ruffle his feathers, Miss Fitzmaurice?" I smiled; indeed I was on the point of laughing outright, Rupert looked so cross. "No," I said, "not that I know of, except--the being yourself, and not somebody else, or rather not being in somebody else's shoes at the present time." I am afraid my raillery was far from being oil on the waters of Rupert's irritation. It was getting late; some of the guests had already left. Rupert got up with some murmured excuse and joined his mother at the other side of the room, whereupon Clarence took his place, so matters had fallen out luckily for me, though I had had no intention of driving Rupert away. "Is he really annoyed at anything?" asked the elder brother. "Oh, no!" I replied, "nothing of the slightest consequence. But I think he would like to be wire-puller to living puppets as well as to those of his own creation, sometimes." "I suppose there's a touch of that about us all," said Clarence, and though he spoke lightly, I think we both felt that the remark was rather curiously appropriate at the present juncture of the drama, of which we were longing to see the denouement. "Just at present," I said half ruefully, "I am longing, as you know, to be told whether I should pull wires at all or not." "Yes, yes," he said quickly, "I know. Don't think I am forgetting about it. I am expecting letters to-morrow even. May I write to you? I am sorry to hear you are leaving us so soon. Will you tell me your address?" I did so, understanding that he did not wish to apply to his mother for it. "Write to me?" I repeated. "Yes, indeed, I hope you will. Come to see me if necessary; indeed I almost think it's sure to be so." I was feeling less philosophical about the whole business than I had done. Fully as my sympathy was enlisted, there were times when the fact of being in the least mixed up in the unhappy affair weighed on me so uncomfortably, that I felt inclined to throw it off altogether, and the knowledge that I had brought it upon myself by no means diminished this discomfort; such knowledge never does, which truth I wish our well-intentioned friends would sometimes lay to heart! But Clarence's next words had again a calming effect. "I don't know how it is," he said. "I can give neither rhyme nor reason for it, but I have a strong persuasion, as I think I said before, that events are working up in that direction, to clear the ground. We must just be a little patient."