'He is dominating,' said Sybil. 'I was greatly attracted by him. Then he did something disgusting, or so I thought it, and I was disillusioned. I even began to dislike him. But he has force, and it will need force on my part to fight him. What will the result be? I shall have less force to fight Charlie's microbes for him.' 'Yes, that is what you are doing,' said Mrs. Brancepeth softly. 'And even here, even when I see most clearly how much better he is getting, I ask myself whether I am doing wisely or not,' continued Sybil. 'What will the end be? Is he filled with certain hopes which I cannot say will ever be realized? And what if he is disappointed of them?' There was no reply, and after a minute she went on. 'Mr. Bilton will arrive in two days,' she said; 'he will come to this hotel. It is impossible for me to cut him, not to recognise him. He is quite extraordinarily like Charlie, by the way. I must speak to him when he speaks to me. I must behave decently. And I know--oh, how well I know it!--he will interest me again. I shall be forced to be interested. There is that about him--some force, some relentless sort of machinery that goes grinding on, pulverizing what gets in its way.' Mrs. Brancepeth rose. 'Now, dear, be quiet,' she said. 'You are working yourself up about it. Don't do that. Don't whip up your imagination on the subject. You take things too vividly.' Sybil smiled rather hopelessly. 'That does not help matters,' she said; 'some people take them not vividly enough. I am myself, you are yourself; the broad lines of each of us are inexorably laid down for us. All we can do is not to make a very shocking mess of them. We are all unsatisfactory. No, I don't think you are; you are very nice and restful. Now, what am I to do--not about Bilton, I mean, but now this minute. That is always so important.' Mrs. Brancepeth laughed. 'And that is so like you,' she said. 'Go to bed, dear, and dream as vividly as you can of the outside edge.' Bilton arrived two days afterwards, and, as was quite natural, paid a call on his friends before dinner in their sitting-room. As chance would have it, neither Charlie nor his mother were in, and he found Sybil alone. She rose and shook hands with him as he entered, but gave him no smile. 'I was surprised to get your letter,' she said; 'I thought you were too busy to come out to this very idle place.' 'I chose it for its idleness,' he said. 'I was very tired, and I have a busy time ahead of me again. It is economical to spend a fortnight in complete idleness rather than let your work suffer for a year.' He paused a moment. 'That was my excuse,' he said; 'I had also a reason.' Sybil felt a sudden anger with him, which flared up and died down again as he went on.