"No, of course not," continued Guest. "But I was thinking whether it would be possible for Myra to go, of course with you, and--perhaps I could arrange it--catch him at his chambers. He would explain everything to her, I'm sure, and you see perhaps after all it may not be so bad." "Oh, no, perhaps not," said Edie, with a sneering intonation which escaped Guest in his infatuation over his new idea for serving two people whom he esteemed. Then, unable to control herself, she burst out with: "Oh, how can people be so stupid? As if it were possible that Myra could ever speak to such a man again." It gradually dawned upon Guest that he had made a terrible blunder, and he went back to his chambers snubbed and fully determined never more to risk his position with Edie by trying to fight his friend's battle and piece together the broken fibres of the suddenly disruptured skein. He was no little surprised, then, some weeks later, after dining at the admiral's and listening to several of the old man's old sea stories, to find Edie, upon reaching the drawing room, revive the idea as they sat talking together in a low tone, while Myra played, and her father took his nap. "Don't talk about it," he said softly. "Every man makes a fool of himself sometimes. I suppose I did then." "There does not seem to be much foolishness in trying to serve others," whispered Edie. "I say, don't," said Guest in a low tone after gazing wonderingly in his companion's face. "You are laying a trap for me to fall into, and it's too bad." "No, I'm not, Percy," she replied. "I've thought a great deal since about what you said. I was very indignant then, but now I think quite differently." "You do?" "Yes. Why should we study etiquette, and be punctilious when other people's life's happiness is concerned?" "Well, that's what I thought, but you jumped upon me." "I didn't, sir. I only said--" "Enough to make me miserable for days. That's all." "Please forgive me, Percy." "Jump on me again, Edie," he whispered passionately--"ten times, a hundred times as hard, so as to ask forgiveness again like that." "If you are so stupid, I will not say another word." "Mute as a fish." "Can't you understand how wretched it must make Myra feel to see other people happy?" "Then you are happy, little one?" "No, and I never shall be while matters are like this. Hush, speak low, and as if we were talking about pictures and Monday Pops. Now tell me, how does Malcolm seem?" "More mad and wretched than ever." "And you can't win his confidence at all?" "Not a bit. I go and see him every day, generally at that place of his in Sarum Street, though I sometimes catch him at the inn, for he has a habit of going there at a certain time, and I found it out." "Well?" "He insults me, bullies me, threatens me, says everything he can think of to break with me; but I go all the same." "That's right. I like men to be faithful to their friends."