'I shall be most happy to meet your mother,' she murmured.

'This is really good of you,' he said eagerly. 'You see, you're the
very one she would take to in an instant. I knew it directly I met
you. I don't know any one else she would listen to so willingly, if
you will consent to intervene.'

'Intervene!' echoed Marion. Somehow she did not like the word. Not at
that moment, I mean.

'Yes, intervene,' he repeated. There was no mistaking it--what could
be clearer. Latin, _inter_, between; _venio_, I come. Marion may have
translated it differently, but she had served in the capacity of buffer
too often to misinterpret its meaning.

'I am to understand that you wish for my aid in a love affair?' she
said.

'That's just about it. You see, I always hoped I should fall in love
with a quiet, homely, staid sort of girl, but dash it all, you can't
govern these things, can you?'

'Sometimes one has to,' said Marion, picking up dropped stitches.

'So I've completely lost my heart to a girl who--well, she's an
actress. She's second from the left in the front row chorus of
"Whizz-Bang" at the Hilarity Theatre; I tell you she's wonderful.'

'No doubt,' said Marion, bending lower over her knitting.