"Of course I'll go for you if you want me to."
"Then I'll give you your instructions."
She gave them to me clearly, concisely, and with complete decision. I heard her in a silence broken only once—then by a low whistle from me. She ended and lay back in her chair, her eyes asking my views.
"You're in for another big row if you do this, you know," I remarked to her.
"Another row? With whom?"
"Why, with Cartmell, to be sure! It's so much more than's necessary."
"No, it's not," she declared rather hotly. "It may be more than's necessary for her, or perhaps for Lord Fillingford. It's not more than is necessary for me—nor for Leonard."
I shrugged my shoulders. She laughed rather impatiently. "One's friends always want one to be a niggard!" She leaned forward to me, breaking into a coaxing smile, "Remember 'the handsome thing,' dear Austin."
I came to her and patted her hand. "I'm with you right through. And, after all, you'll still have a roof over your head."
She looked at me with eyes merry, yet foreseeing. "I shan't be in at all a bad position." She laughed. "No harm in that—so long as it doesn't interfere with Margaret?"