"Perhaps not. But you must have thought it rather sudden--rather strange." Sylvia's fingers moved a little more rapidly. "You see, I came out here engaged to marry Guy." "Good gracious!" said Matilda. Sylvia glanced up momentarily. "We had been engaged for years. We were engaged before he ever came here. We--loved each other. But--" Words failed her suddenly; she drew a short, hard breath and was silent. "He let you down?" said Matilda. She nodded. Matilda's face hardened. "That was Burke's doing." "No--no!" Sylvia found her voice again with an effort. "It isn't fair to say that. Burke tried to help him,--has tried--many times. He may have been harsh to him; he may have made mistakes. But I know he has tried to help him." "Was that why he married you?" asked Matilda, with a bitter curl of the lip. Sylvia winced. "No. I--don't quite know what made him think of that. Perhaps--in a way--he felt he ought. I was thrown on his protection, and he never would believe that I was capable of fending for myself." "Very chivalrous!" commented Matilda. "Men are like that." Sylvia shivered. "Don't--please! He--has been very good to me." "In his own way," said Matilda. "No, in every way. I can't tell you how good till--till Guy came back. He brought him back to please me." Sylvia's voice was low and distressed. "That was when things began to go wrong," she said. "There was nothing very magnanimous in that," commented Matilda. "He wanted you to see poor Guy when he was down. He wanted to give you a lesson so that you should realize your good luck in being married to him. He didn't count on the fact that you loved him. He expected you to be disgusted." "Oh, don't!" Sylvia said quickly. "Really that isn't fair. That isn't--Burke. He did it against his judgment. He did it for my sake." "You don't know much about men, do you?" said Matilda. "Perhaps not. But I know that much about Burke. I know that he plays fair." "Even if he kills his man," suggested Matilda cynically. "He always plays fair." Sylvia spoke firmly. "But he doesn't know how to make allowances. He is hard." "Have you found him so?" said Matilda. "I?" Sylvia looked across at her. Their eyes met. There was a certain compulsion in the elder woman's look. "Yes, you," she said. "You personally. Has he been cruel to you, Sylvia? Has he? Ah no, you needn't tell me! I--know." She went suddenly to her, and put her arm around her. Sylvia was trembling. "He didn't--understand," she whispered. "Men never do," said Matilda very bitterly. "Love is beyond them. They are only capable of passion. I learnt that lesson long ago. It simplified life considerably, for I left off expecting anything else." Sylvia clung to her for a moment. "I think you are wrong," she said. "I know you are wrong--somehow. But--I can't prove it to you." "You're so young," said Matilda compassionately.