"Good gracious!" Theresa stood still and looked down on her sister, whose upturned face was pale and earnest. The luminous eyes looked steadily at Theresa: they had lost their sparkle, and showed dark and unsuspected depths. "Who taught you to be love's advocate?" Grace made a weak little movement with her hands and turned to look out on the docks. In the silence Theresa heard her breathing and saw the throbbing pulse in her throat. Speech came with difficulty. "Love itself, I suppose," Theresa heard. "Are you ill?" She forced a place for herself on the window-sill, and took Grace's hands. "Grace, what has happened?" Fear pumped at her heart and shook her body. "Grace, tell me." She turned for a long, full look and the eyes were not those of an unhappy woman. "I'm going to be married in a month," she said. Theresa's mouth fell slack. "What--on earth for?" she asked. Dreadful visions flashed, but Grace dispelled them with her bubbling laughter. "Oh, Theresa! Because I am in love! Because--because I understand your poor little Mr. Partiloe." Theresa released her hands. "You don't mean to say that your man behaved like that?" Grace was dignified, almost matronly. "My man," she said, "behaved exactly as I could have wished." "And where," asked Theresa, with the coarseness of desperation, "did you pick him up?" "He lives next door--lodges there." "Not the man who strums, and fiddles, and sings?" "He plays in the theatre orchestra." "Here's fame!" "He's a musician." "I'll take your word for it. I've no ear myself." "Theresa dear, be nice. I have liked him ever since he came here----" "Are you watching for him to come up that road, because if you are I'm not going to listen." "He is at the theatre or he would be here," she said. "It's your Mr. Jessop who has made the match, Terry. Do you remember the night at Christmas time, when we couldn't find Arnold?" "Yes. He was next door." "But I didn't tell you that when I was outside calling for him, Phil came up the street--he had been to the theatre--and told me where he was." "Who was?" "Arnold, of course. He was in Phil's room." "Had he stolen him?" "Well--temporarily. He truly likes him----" "Oh, these pronouns!" "But he got friendly with him in the hope of getting friendly with us." "With you, you mean. How charming!" "Yes, I think it was," said Grace simply. "And so it went on?" "Yes. I think Bessie knew. Didn't she say anything?" "Has Bessie ever sneaked, in all her days?" "This afternoon we went for a walk. We were both free----" "And now neither of you is. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!" "Oh, Terry, do be glad." "But you looked miserable. I thought something terrible had happened."