"Yes. I saw Ralph before he went away. He seemed very down on his luck, poor dear! He's been trying to persuade Penelope to say yes and to fix an early date for their wedding, as he's got the offer of a very good short tour in America--really thumping fees--and he won't accept it unless she'll marry him first and go with him." "Well, I don't see how that's my fault." "In a way it is. The only reason Penelope gave him as to why she wouldn't consent was that she will never marry as long as you need her." Nan digested this information in silence. Then she said quietly: "If that's all, you can take off your sackcloth and ashes and phone Ralph at his hotel to come back here to-morrow. I'll--I'll talk to Penelope to-night." Kitty stared at her in surprise. "You seem very sure of the effect of your persuasions," she answered dubiously. "I am. Quite sure. It won't take me five minutes to convince Penelope that there is no need for her to remain in a state of single blessedness on my account. And now, I'm going out of doors to have a smoke all by myself. You were quite right"--smiling briefly--"when you said I should feel everything more to-day than yesterday. Do keep people away from me, there's a good soul." Kitty gave her a searching glance. But for two spots of feverishly vivid colour in her cheeks, the girl's face was very pale, and her eyes over-bright, with heavy shadows underlying them. "Very well," she said kindly. "Tuck yourself up in one of the lounge chairs and I'll see that no one bothers you." But Nan was in no mood for a lounge chair. Lighting a cigarette, she paced restlessly up and down the flagged path of the quadrangular court, absorbed in her thoughts. It seemed to her as though Fate had suddenly given her a gentle push in the direction of marriage with Roger. She knew now that Penny had refused Ralph solely on her account--so that she might not be left alone. If she could go to her and tell her that she herself was about to marry Trenby, then the only obstacle which stood in the way of Penelope's happiness would be removed. Last night her thoughts had swung from side to side in a ceaseless ding-dong struggle of indecision, but this new factor in the matter weighted the scales heavily in favour of her marrying Trenby. At last she made up her mind. There were two chances, two avenues which might lead away from him. Should both of these be closed against her, she would yield to the current of affairs which now seemed set to sweep her into his arms.