“I hope you entirely undeceived him on that score,” drily. “Not at all. I told him I was tingling to scratch him and bite him,” and the ghost of a smile crossed her lips. Dudley relapsed into silent displeasure, and for a few moments neither spoke. Then Hal, with her garments on her arm, came round to him with a frank, affectionate air. “Dudley, don’t make mountains out of molehills over nothing. I know I am a little wild. I can’t help it—we seem to have got mixed up somehow. You’ve got all the decorum and nice, refined feelings of a charming woman, and I’ve got the enterprise and ‘don’t-care’ spirit of a man. It isn’t any use fighting against facts. You must take me as I am, and make the best of it. I can’t change now; and I don’t know that I would if I could.” “I don’t suppose you would. You positively glory in the very traits that I deplore”; but his voice sounded mollified. “Oh well, old man, you wouldn’t like me to be helpless, and foolish, and woolly-lambified, would you? It wouldn’t be half so interesting. Just fancy if you had a sister like Doris Hayward, can you imagine anything tamer?” He stiffened again, but she did not notice it. “As for Thursday night, you never ought to have heard about it, and you never would have done if Uncle Bruce had not been such an old telltale. Just wait till I get him alone; that’s all. Anyhow, he didn’t think it a heinous crime did he? I expect he gave a great laugh that startled every one within hearing.” As that was exactly what had happened, Dudley made no comment. “And Sir Edwin Crathie would only have thought me a fool if I had been afraid to come back with him. These things will happen occasionally. They are not worth worrying about. You are too anxious over trifles, Dudley.” She moved away towards the door. “Well, good-night, don’t forget to return thanks that anyhow I am not in a hospital, generally smashed up.” She left him, and retired to bed, feeling a little depressed. Of course he had not forgiven her, nor would he see things from her point of view. She almost wished he did not mind; but all her life she had had an affection that was almost adoration for her one brother, and it always depressed her to displease him, however indifferent she might seem. She awoke next morning with the sense of depression still lingering, and set off for the City in far from her usual spirits. The office seemed dingy and dull, and the routine wearisome. It felt like ages and ages since she had driven home through the darkness in Sir Edwin’s beautiful car. She wondered if it was real at all; only what else should make all the old friends at the office appear so uninteresting and commonplace. She speculated a little forlornly as to whether she would ever be likely to see him again, and decided it was most unlikely, and that probably he had already forgotten the whole incident.