“It isn’t agreeable if you’re going to be horrid and cynical. Why _shouldn’t_ I be glad to see you? You always stimulate my intelligence even if you don’t flatter it.” The others had moved on to the library and they had the room to themselves. “I don’t see how I could flatter it more than I have already done,” he said in a low tone of voice. She raised her chin a trifle and peered at him slantwise. “Do you think that you flatter it now when you recall the mistakes of my past?” He searched her face keenly but her blue eyes met his gaze steadily. She was smiling up at him guilelessly. “A mistake--of course,” he said slowly. “You are young enough to afford to make mistakes. But I am old enough to wish that it hadn’t been made at my expense.” “You still care?” she asked. “I do.” “If I hadn’t thought that you wanted me for your collection----” “You are cruel----” “No. I know. You wanted me for your portrait harem, and I should have been frightfully jealous of the Coningsby Venus. I couldn’t compete with that sort of thing, you know.” He smiled at her admiringly and went on in a low tone. “You know why I wanted you then, and why I want you now--because you’re the cleverest woman in England, and the most courageous.” “It took courage to refuse the hand of John Rizzio.” “It takes more courage in John Rizzio to hear those words from the lips that refused him.” She laid her hand gently on his arm. “I am sorry,” she said. He bent his head and kissed her fingers. “It is not the Coningsby Venus who is essential to my happiness,” he whispered. “It’s the Doris Diana.” She laughed. “That’s the disillusionment of possession.” “No. The only disillusionments of life are its failures--I got the Venus by infinite patience. The Diana----” He paused and drew in his breath. “You think that you may get the Diana by patience also?” she asked quietly. He looked at her with a gaze that seemed to pierce all her subterfuges. “I waited for the Coningsby Venus,” he said in measured tones, “until the man who possessed her--was dead.” She started, and the color left her cheeks. “You mean--Cyril?” she stammered. “I mean,” he replied urbanely, “precisely nothing--except that I will never give you up.” She recovered her poise with an effort, and when she replied she was smiling gayly. “I’m not at all sure that I want to be given up,” she said, with a laugh that was meant to relax the tension. “You are, after all, one of the best friends I have.” “I hope that nothing may ever happen to make you think otherwise.” Was this a threat? She glanced at him keenly as she quoted: “‘Friendship is constant in all other things save in the office and affairs of love.’ May I trust you?” “Try me.” “No, I might put you to a test that would be difficult.” “Try me.” “Very well, I will. Go back to London in the morning.” He looked at her and laughed. “Why?” “It will be easier for you to be patient there than here----” “When Hammersley comes?”