She put her hand, restrainingly, on his arm. "You must not quarrel with him," she said. Then to Herford. "And if it were, sir, do my lips not justify it?" "Marry, yes!" he answered curtly, "and your eyes, and your hair, and everything about you." "Just what Mr. Maynadier was engaged in telling me, when you broke in. You have told me the same, a score of times; surely, Mr. Maynadier may tell me, _once_." She was trying to find out just how much Herford had witnessed. There was no occasion for Maynadier taking up the quarrel--if he had seen only what had happened since she came down from her room. Indeed, she was not particularly averse, if he had seen it all. Herford would hold his tongue, and, with a man of Maynadier's notions, it would be in her favor, likely--he would think he had done her a wrong--had put her in a false position--he would try to right it. And, if she could effect it, he would be caught. She wanted to bring him to a proposal--then, she could decide whether to return to England or to stay. If she were to stay, she knew that Maynadier was the only man who could persuade her--and, at the pinch, even his attractions might fail. Maynadier, for his part, having made a "fool" of himself, was prepared to accept its responsibilities, even to fighting a duel with Herford, if necessary to save Miss Stirling's good name. For him, the catastrophe had been, when Judith Marbury saw--and was seen. He did not think she really cared for Parkington--the flattery of being noticed, with his air of distinction and position, had doubtless turned her head. It would be all over with, in a month or two, when he departed, and, may be, the flirtation would not last even so long.--Afterwards----? He did not know. She had something to explain, as well as he! Possibly, it would be wiser for him not to explain--to act as if none were required. A man is different from a woman: he may take what comes, if he take it skilfully; but, a woman may not take--and be caught. That was Judith's misfortune--she might have been kissed by Parkington, and a dozen others, and no one would have been the wiser. But she had been seen; and, henceforth, she was under the suspicion of every one who knew it. "Is it going to stop with the 'once'?" Herford demanded. "You will have to ask Mr. Maynadier," she replied, laughing. "And he declines to express himself," said Maynadier, instantly. He offered his arm to her and bowed. "Shall we resume the mirror, or shall we go outside?" "Outside," she answered, pressing his arm. "Will Captain Herford go with us?" holding out her hand and giving him a dazzling smile. (She must take him along and be nice to him, she thought.) And she conquered, as she knew she could with him. "You do not deserve it," she whispered, as she slipped her arm through his, "but, then, you can be very nice, at times." He smiled, much as a child might have done, and, in an instant, his good nature returned.