"You," said Ronald decidedly. "She cares for you like a mother, and will take it more easily from you. Then I can step in, later on, with--er--_manly_ comfort." "Confound you!" said Billy, highly indignant. "I'm not such a kid as you make out. But I'll tell you this:--If I thought it would be for her real happiness, and could be pulled through, I would tell her I did it; then find Airth to-morrow and tell him I had told her so." "Ass!" said Ronnie, affectionately. "As if that could mend matters. Don't you know the earl? He was against the hushing-up business from the first. He would simply punch your head for daring to lie to her, and go and tell her the exact truth himself. Besides, at this moment, he is thinking more of his side of the question, than of hers. We fellows have a way of doing that. If he had thought first of her, he would have stayed with her and seen her through, instead of rushing off like this, leaving her heart-broken and perplexed." "Confound him!" said Billy, earnestly. "I say, Billy! You know women." It was the first time Ronnie had admitted this. "Don't you think--if a woman turned in horror from a man she had loved, she might--if he were tactfully on the spot--turn _to_ a man who had long loved her, and of whom she had undoubtedly been fond?" "My knowledge of women," declaimed Billy, dramatically, "leads me to hope that she would fall into the arms of the man who loved her well enough to risk incurring her displeasure by bravely telling her himself that which she ought----" "Confound you!" whispered Ronnie, who had glanced past Billy, "Shut up!--The meshes of this net are better than the other, and the new patent sockets undoubtedly keep it----" "You patient people!" said Lady Ingleby's voice, just behind Billy. "Don't you badly need tea?" "We were admiring the new net," said Ronald Ingram, frowning at Billy, who with his back to Lady Ingleby, continued admiring the new net, helplessly speechless! There were brave attempts at merriment during tea. Ronald told all the latest Overdene stories; then described the annual concert which had just taken place. "Mrs. Dalmain was there, and sang divinely. She sings her husband's songs; he accompanies her. It is awfully fine to see the light on his blind face as he listens, while her glorious voice comes pouring forth. When the song is over, he gets up from the piano, gives her his arm, and apparently leads her off. Very few people realise that, as a matter of fact, she is guiding him. She gave, as an encore, a jolly little new thing of his--quite simple--but everybody wanted it twice over; an air like summer wind blowing through a pine wood, with an accompaniment like a blackbird whistling; words something about 'On God's fair earth, 'mid blossoms blue'--I forget the rest. Go ahead, Bill!" "There is no room for sad despair, When heaven's love is everywhere." quoted Billy, who had an excellent memory.