Basil earned occasional guineas for copying work, when he was well enough to stand the strain, and Doris remained at home with him in the little Holloway flat, as nurse and housekeeper. Dudley, with his usual lack of comprehension where women were concerned, evolved what seemed to him an admirable plan, in which Hal and Doris became great friends, thereby brightening poor Doris’s dull existence, and weaning Hal from her allegiance to the unstatisfactory Lorraine. His plans, however, quickly met with the discouragement and downfall inevitable from the beginning. At first he tried strategy, and Hal, in a good-tempered, careless way, merely listened, while easily avoiding any encounter. Then Dudley went a step too far. “I have to be out three evenings this week, so I asked Doris Hayward to come and keep you company, as I thought you might be dull.” “You asked Doris to come and keep _me_ company!” repeated Hal, quite taken aback. “Yes; why not? She is such a nice girl, and just your age. I can’t think why you are not greater friends.” “It’s pretty apparent,” with a little curl of her lips. “We haven’t anything in common: that’s all.” “But why haven’t you? You can’t possibly know if you never meet. She seems such a far more sensible friend for you than Lorraine Vivian,” with a shade of irritation. “Probably that is exactly why I don’t want her friendship,” with a light laugh. “But you might try to be reasonable just once in a way. Try to be friendly tomorrow evening.” Hal, with her quick, light gracefulness, crossed to him, and playfully gave him a little shake. “Dudley, you dear old idiot. I don’t know about being reasonable, but I can certainly be honest; and it’s honest I’m going to be now. I think it is almost a slur on Lorraine to mention a little, silly, dolly-faced, conceited creature like Doris in the same breath; and as for being friendly to her tomorrow evening, that’s impossible, because I shall not be here. I’m going to the Denisons, and I don’t intend to postpone it. You will have to write and tell her I am engaged.” Dudley’s mouth quickly assumed the rigidity which denoted he was greatly displeased, and his voice was frigid as he replied: “You are very injust to Doris. You scarcely know her, and yet you condemn her offhand: the fault you are always finding in me. As for any comparison between her and Miss Vivian, it is very certain she would not sell herself to a man, and then run away from him because things did not turn out as she wanted them.” Hal turned away, with a slight shrug and a humorous expression as of helplessness.