He turned away, intending to go back to the room in which she had found him. Looking at her situation from a man’s point of view, he naturally assumed that the best service he could now render to Mercy would be to leave her to prepare herself for the interview with Horace. Before he had taken three steps away from her she showed him the difference between the woman’s point of view and the man’s. The idea of considering beforehand what she should say never entered her mind. In her horror of being left by herself at that critical moment, she forgot every other consideration. Even the warning remembrance of Horace’s jealous distrust of Julian passed away from her, for the moment, as completely as if it never had a place in her memory. “Don’t leave me!” she cried. “I can’t wait here alone. Come back--come back!” She rose impulsively while she spoke, as if to follow him into the dining-room, if he persisted in leaving her. A momentary expression of doubt crossed Julian’s face as he retraced his steps and signed to her to be seated a gain. Could she be depended on (he asked himself) to sustain the coming test of her resolution, when she had not courage enough to wait for events in a room by herself? Julian had yet to learn that a woman’s courage rises with the greatness of the emergency. Ask her to accompany you through a field in which some harmless cattle happen to be grazing, and it is doubtful, in nine cases out of ten, if she will do it. Ask her, as one of the passengers in a ship on fire, to help in setting an example of composure to the rest, and it is certain, in nine cases out of ten, that she will do it. As soon as Julian had taken a chair near her, Mercy was calm again. “Are you sure of your resolution?” he asked. “I am certain of it,” she answered, “as long as you don’t leave me by myself.” The talk between them dropped there. They sat together in silence, with their eyes fixed on the door, waiting for Horace to come in. After the lapse of a few minutes their attention was attracted by a sound outside in the grounds. A carriage of some sort was plainly audible approaching the house. The carriage stopped; the bell rang; the front door was opened. Had a visitor arrived? No voice could be heard making inquiries. No footsteps but the servant’s footsteps crossed the hall. Along pause followed, the carriage remaining at the door. Instead of bringing some one to the house, it had apparently arrived to take some one away. The next event was the return of the servant to the front door. They listened again. Again no second footstep was audible. The door was closed; the servant recrossed the hall; the carriage was driven away. Judging by sounds alone, no one had arrived at the house, and no one had left the house. Julian looked at Mercy. “Do you understand this?” he asked. She silently shook her head.