"I will draw the money in cash to-morrow and bring it to you," said Spencer. "Then nobody will be able to guess from whom it comes." He rose, he could not trust himself to stay very much longer. At any moment his reserve might break down. He might be impelled to change the role of the benevolent friend into that of the ardent lover. And for a long time after he had left, Stella Keane sat absorbed in the most serious thoughts. There was no doubt he was ardently in love with her. But he was not yet quite prepared to screw up his courage to the sticking place. It was easy to understand. The obligations he owed his family were weighing on his mind. The woman he made his wife would one day be the Countess of Southleigh. He had to think of all this. And all he knew about her was learned from her own statement, and she had a cousin who was, from his point of view, certainly not a gentleman. Above all things, Stella Keane was a very business-like young woman, and never shrank from looking facts squarely in the face. She must play a waiting game. Guy Spencer was very deeply in love, but he was not a hotheaded, impetuous boy, the sort of amorous youth who runs off with a chorus-girl, regardless of consequences. Lovers of this kind were very rarely met with. If Guy Spencer did marry her, and she could not at the moment be sure he would, he would be fully conscious of the disadvantages to himself entailed by such a marriage. Would her fascination be strong enough to conquer his better judgment? At any rate, for the present he was prepared to advance her five hundred pounds, and ask nothing but her friendship in return. It was an offer that she would have been a fool to refuse. Presently she rose and went up to Mrs L'Estrange's bedroom. That sorely perturbed lady had risen, flung on a dressing-gown, and was reclining on a sofa. "I can't sleep, I only fidget and fidget about," was the explanation. "So I thought I might as well get up." "Very wise," said Stella calmly. "You're a little bit too hysterical, you know. You should keep your nerves in order as I do mine." "Not always," was the sarcastic rejoinder. "They go to pieces in thunderstorms and air-raids, don't they?" "The exception proves the rule, my dear lady. Well, I haven't come up here to indulge in a sparring match. I have some very great news for you. Mr Spencer called this afternoon; he hasn't left me very long." The elder woman became interested at once. "You don't mean to say he has asked you to marry him?" Stella laughed. "No, he hasn't, although it will not be my fault if he doesn't later on. It seems Tommy Esmond called on him last night, and made a clean breast of his whole history." Mrs L'Estrange frowned. "Then I think he was a great fool. Everybody, of course, will know what actually happened, that he was discovered cheating. But he need not go and tell him more than he would learn from general rumour."