"I found your letter at my Club," McTaggart explained, "on my way home. So I thought I'd just run down and see how you and Roddy were getting on." He avoided a more direct allusion to Mrs. Uniacke's crowning folly, though he longed to express his sympathy. He knew, of old, Jill's pride. "Roddy's out," said the girl, "he's gone to the theatre with a school friend. He didn't _want_ to, but I told him he must! He's awfully cut up about it all. But it's no good crying over spilt milk"--she smiled bravely--"is it, Peter? It's _done_ now. That's the worst of marriage--it's for always." She checked a sigh. As his eyes drank in the pretty face McTaggart decided to himself it might be also "the best of it!" But out aloud he responded quickly, glad she had broken the ice herself. "I'm _awfully_ sorry. I can't tell you how I feel about the whole affair. It's ... the limit!" his face was wrathful. "I'd like to have Stephen to myself for a little ... active argument. Gloves off--you understand?" "Rather!" her face warmed at the thought. "It's odd you should say that, though. I once dreamed I saw you both fighting a duel. I believe I told you--that day in the car--how I woke up before the end, not knowing which side had won." McTaggart smiled somewhat grimly. "It's going to happen. In real life," he watched the girl. "But I can't win, Jill, without your help--that's certain!" She looked up, surprised at his words. "Of course I'll help--if I possibly can. But what do you mean? Have you really something against Stephen?" A shadow fell on her eager face as she went on, in a burst of confidence. "It's so awful, Peter, to think that he is, legally, you know, our stepfather. It's all right for me because I'm grown up and can hold my own--but there's poor old Roddy! He's only a boy--that's where Stephen gets the pull. And just now----" she broke off--"I don't think I told you--in my letters, I mean--but there's been a thundering row at home. "Roddy's told Mother he wants to be an artist and she's simply furious! She's set her heart on his going into the Army. She doesn't see that, without private means, it's frightfully hard on any man. It would be, of course, the Indian Service, and I can't bear to think of Roddy going abroad for the rest of his life. For it comes to that, practically. Besides, he hates the whole idea. He's not fitted for a soldier. I'm sure if Father were alive he'd agree with me. I _know_ he would!" She leaned back on the music stool, her hands clasped around her knees. The moonlight fell full on her face, showing the shadows under her eyes and the traces of recent suffering. McTaggart longed to gather her up in his arms and comfort her like a child.