This was a comment, not a question, which was well, for it would have been awkward for Philip Debenham to have had to announce himself in love with his sister; and though Tor had no great compunction in acting a part, he had a distinct aversion to speaking a lie. He felt his position growing more and more complicated and uncomfortable; but at the same time his sense of humour could not but enable him to enjoy it, when there was no pressing danger to apprehend. ‘Then you will think over what I have said, Philip?’ said Michael Meredith, after a pause. ‘I will indeed, sir.’ ‘And you will give me your answer soon?’ ‘I must ask you, sir, not to hurry me as to that. I have a good deal on my mind just now, and so important a decision as this must not be hurried. I am afraid I am not made of the inflammable stuff of which lovers are generally supposed to be composed; and I do not know your daughter well—greatly as I admire her—nor does she know anything of me. Give us time to learn each other’s characters, and above all, say nothing to her to disturb her unconsciousness and freedom. You see, I treat you as frankly as you treat me; and when my answer is ready, you shall have it.’ ‘He is safe enough,’ said Meredith to himself, as Tor strode away. ‘He is cautious and thoughtful; perhaps at his age that is natural, but he is safe enough. Roma has no rival, that is the great point; the rest will all follow.’ ‘I think I managed that rather well,’ mused Tor as he walked home, half amused, half annoyed by the interview. ‘I didn’t agitate the old buffer. I didn’t commit myself, and I’ve gained time, which is everything. Never thought I could combine the serpent and the dove quite so neatly. Phil, you young rascal, if you don’t come to your senses pretty quick now, I shall feel inclined to blow your brains out, and have done with you and your confounded affairs once and for all! Why was I ever fool enough to make a friend?’ CHAPTER XV. DANGERS AHEAD. ‘Matilda,’ said Bertha Belassis, ‘don’t you think it rather odd that Sir Herbert Moncrieff was so sure that Phil was Mr. Torwood?’ ‘Was he so sure? I fancied he had only made a mistake. Philip didn’t seem to think it so very odd. I suppose they have been mistaken for one another before.’ ‘Yes; but he spoke of it again to me afterwards; and did I tell you about Maud?’ ‘No. What?’ ‘I don’t think I thought of it at the time particularly; but afterwards, turning it over in my mind, I couldn’t help thinking it rather strange.’ ‘What?’ questioned Matilda impatiently. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’