"I can't discuss the matter further, Lena. I cannot tell you more. I had no right, I had no reason, for telling you anything before, because nothing had been concluded--it may not be concluded. It depends on her, and she has not spoken to me decisively." He moved away from the table. "You haven't finished your coffee, your sandwiches," said Lady Dashwood, to give herself time, and to help her to self-control. Oh, why had he put himself and his useful life in the hands of a mere child--a child who would never become a real woman? Why did he deliberately plan his own martyrdom? "I don't want any more," he said, "and I have letters to write." "Jim," she called to him gently, "tell me at least--if you are happy--whether----" "I can't talk just now--not just now, Lena," he said. "But Belinda takes the matter as settled--otherwise the letter is not merely absurd--but outrageous!" The Warden hesitated in his slow stride towards the door. "I am not going to have Belinda here on Saturday. There is no room for her. She can't come till May has gone." Lady Dashwood spoke this in a firm, rapid voice. "That is for you to decide," he said. "You are mistress here." He was moving again when she said in a voice full of pain: "You say you can't talk just now, you can't speak to me of what is happening to you, of what may happen to you, when you, next to John, are more to me than anything else in the world. What happens to you means happiness or misery to me, and yet you _can't talk_!" The Warden was arrested, stood still, and turned towards her. "You owe me some consideration, Jim. I have no children, you have been a son as well as a brother to me. I can have no peace of mind, no joy in life if things go wrong with you. Yes, I repeat it--if things go wrong with you. I was your mother, Jim, for many years, and yet you say you can't discuss something that is of supreme importance! You are willing to go out of this room and leave me to spend a night sleepless with anxiety." What his engagement to Gwendolen would mean to her was expressed more in her voice even than in her words. The Warden stood motionless. "Be patient with me, Lena. I can't talk about it--I would if I could. I know all I owe to you--all I can never repay; but there is nothing more to tell you than that I have offered her a home. I have made a proposal--I was not aware that she had definitely accepted, and that is why I said nothing to you about it." Lady Dashwood got up. She did not approach her brother. Her instinct told her not to touch him, or entreat him by such means. She made a step towards the hearth, and said in a muffled voice-- "Will you answer one question? You can answer it." He made no sound of assent. "Are you in love with her? or"--and here Lady Dashwood's voice shook--"do you feel that she will help you? Do you think she will be helpful to--the College?" There was a pause, and then the Warden's voice came to her; he was forcing himself to speak very calmly.