"N-no; not exactly. It is--it may be a phase; and yet I know that if it is anything at all it is not a passing phase. She is different from the majority, you see--very intelligent, very direct. She never forgets--for example. Her loyalty is quite remarkable, Phil. She is very intense in her--her beliefs--the more so because she is unusually free from impulse--even quite ignorant of the deeper emotions; or so I believed until--until--" "Is she in _love_?" he asked. "A little, Phil." "Does she admit it?" he demanded, unpleasantly astonished. "She admits it in a dozen innocent ways to me who can understand her; but to herself she has not admitted it, I think--could not admit it yet; because--because--" "Who is it?" asked Selwyn; and there was in his voice the slightest undertone of a growl. "Dear, shall I tell you?" "Why not?" "Because--because--Phil, I think that our pretty Eileen is a little in love with--you." He straightened out to his full height, scarlet to the temples; she dropped her linked fingers in her lap, gazing at him almost sadly. "Dear, all the things you are preparing to shout at me are quite useless; I _know_; I don't imagine, I don't forestall, I don't predict. I am not discounting any hopes of mine, because, Phil, I had not thought--had not planned such a thing--between you and Eileen--I don't know why. But I had not; there was Suddy Gray--a nice boy, perfectly qualified; and there were alternates more worldly, perhaps. But I did not think of you; and that is what now amazes and humiliates me; because it was the obvious that I overlooked--the most perfectly natural--" "Nina! you are madder than a March heiress!" "Air your theories, Phil, then come back to realities. The conditions remain; Eileen is certainly a little in love with you; and a little with her means something. And you, evidently, have never harboured any serious intentions toward the child; I can see that, because you are the most transparent man I ever knew. Now, the question is, what is to be done?" "Done? Good heavens! Nothing, of course! There's nothing to do anything about! Nina, you are the most credulous little matchmaker that ever--" "Oh, Phil, _must_ I listen to all those fulminations before you come down to the plain fact? And it's plain to me as the nose on your countenance; and I don't know what to do about it! I certainly was a perfect fool to confide in you, for you are exhibiting the coolness and sagacity of a stampeded chicken." He laughed in spite of himself; then, realising a little what her confidence had meant, he turned a richer red and slowly lifted his fingers to his moustache, while his perplexed gray eyes began to narrow as though sun-dazzled.