"And, to bare my soul to you, I'm no fonder of being lonely than another man.... Do you know that, but for Kerr, you're my one acquaintance in all this part of the world? What shall we say of that? I sit at dinner, consumed by blue devils. I emerge, and behold, you walk across the lobby. Haven't I some right to feel that the gods are with me even at the Beach?" Perchance she might have given him some information there, but instead she laughed musically. "The god of the pretty speeches, at any rate! Must I tell you that you didn't look quite overjoyed when dear Willie came dragging you up?" "I've no doubt I looked all sorts of ways, for I'd never felt more unfit for any society, including my own. The more is my debt to you for chasing my devils away.... But perhaps I owe you no thanks after all, as one guesses that you do these little services for others without any particular effort." Carlisle glanced at him, smiling a little from her dusky eyes. "Your experience is that most people find it a great effort to speak pleasantly to you, I suppose?" "Again I point out to you that our talk is not of most people, but of you." "Oh! And is there something particularly original about me? This grows exciting." "I, for one, think that beauty is always original," said Canning, with sufficient impersonality, but no more.... "Still, we know, of course, that unaided it cannot drive the blues of others very far." "After the sugar-coating comes the pill. Tell me in what way I have been deficient." "Ah, that's yet to learn. To be charming by habit is an agreeable thing; but you haven't convinced me yet, you know, that you know how to be kind." Her lashes fell before his masculine gaze; she did not answer. About them was the sweet hush of the night. She was aware that he had moved nearer upon their bench; aware, too, of a faster beating of her heart. And then, quite suddenly, a new voice spoke, so close that both started sharply; a rather shy voice, yet one possessed of a certain vivid quality of life. "I beg your pardon--but _is_ this Miss Heth?" They turned as upon one string. At the door of the summer-house stood the blurred figure of a man, bareheaded and tall. The light being chiefly behind him, he showed only in thin silhouette, undistinguishable as to age, character, and personal pulchritude. Stares passed between the dim trio. "I am Miss Heth." "Could you possibly let me speak to you--for a moment, Miss Heth? I realize, of course, that it's a great intrusion but--" Canning started up, annoyed. Carlisle, without knowing why, was instantly conscious of a subtle sinking of the heart: some deep instinct rang a warning in the recesses of her being, as if crying out: "This man means trouble." She glanced at Mr. Canning with a kind of little shrug, suggesting doubt, and some helplessness; and he, taking this for sufficient authority, assumed forthwith the male's protectorship. "Yes? What is it that you wish?"