Mallinson fancied that he detected a note of something more than mere remonstrance in Mr. Le Mesurier's voice, a consciousness of some thought in his daughter's mind which he would not openly acknowledge her to possess. The perception quickened Mallinson's conjecture into a positive conviction. There was evidently some fact about Drake, some incident perhaps in his life which brought him into relations with the Le Mesuriers,--relations ignored by Drake, but known by Mr. Le Mesurier and suspected by Clarice. Was this fact to Drake's advantage or discredit? The father's manner indicated rather the latter; but Mallinson put that aside. It was more than overbalanced by the daughter's--he sought for a word and chanced on 'forwardness.' His irritation against her prompted him to hug it, to stamp it on his thoughts of her with a jeer of 'I have found you out.' On the other hand, all his knowledge of her cried out against the word. He looked into the girl's face to resolve his doubts upon the point and found that she was watching him with some perplexity. A question to Conway explained the reason why she was puzzled. 'How did you know that I asked Mr. Drake to Beaufort Gardens?' she asked. 'I was present when Mallinson asked him to go.' 'Mr. Mallinson asked him!' she exclaimed, dropping her fan in her surprise. 'Why, I thought--' She saw the confusion in Mallinson's face and checked herself suddenly with a little laugh of pure enjoyment. Her companion's jealousy was more heroical than she had given him credit for; it had induced him to lie. To cover his discomfiture Mallinson dived for the fan. 'Oh, don't trouble,' she said, sympathy shaping the words into a positive entreaty. 'You are _so_ short-sighted, you know. Then you will bring Mr. Drake,' she turned to Conway as he rose and moved towards the door. Mr. Le Mesurier had resumed his conversation with Fielding, and beyond a slight movement of impatience, he gave no sign that he had heard the words. 'After the next act,' said Conway, and he went out. Mallinson picked up the fan and laid it upon the ledge of the box. 'I lied to you that evening,' he whispered in a low faltering tone. 'I have no excuse--Can't you guess why I lied?' There was a feeling behind the words, genuine by the ring of it, and to feeling Clarice was by nature responsive. Mallinson saw the mischief die out of her face, the eyelids droop until the lashes touched the cheek. Then she raised them again, tenderness flowered in her eyes. 'Perhaps,' she said. She turned from him and watched Conway making his way along the row of stalls. Drake was already in his seat. 'Then why didn't Mr. Drake come if you asked him?' she said with a quick change of tone. 'He gave no reason beyond that it was his first night in London.'