"I'm glad he has your help."
"Perhaps it's more important that he has yours. We're three to one, and that ought to be enough."
Elsie's face was calm, but she was silent for a moment, and Whitney thought she was trying to hide some embarrassment.
"Tell me," she said, "was it on Dick's account you asked Williamson for a match?"
"No; that is, not directly. I can't tell you anything more; but since we are friends, can you arrange that there are no matches put beside the bedroom candles?"
"The man is our guest," Elsie said with some hesitation. "Still perhaps one mustn't be fastidious when—"
"When there's a good deal at stake—Dick's welfare, for one thing."
"Very well," Elsie promised.
An hour later the party broke up. They used oil-lamps at Appleyard, and at night a row of candles in old-fashioned brass holders were placed upon a table on the bedroom landing. As a rule, a few matchboxes were put beside them; but sometimes this was overlooked.
Williamson went upstairs first, and stopped on reaching the table.