his mind, and unconsciously grew a little strained in her manner to
him. That he should pity Doris and blame her seemed at last irony, but
it could not be helped; and not even to win his love could she attempt
to change her natural manner, and appear what might better please him.

She even said "good-night" a little coldly, and remained beside Basil
while Doris went out into the tiny hall with him to get his hat and
coat.

Doris seemed to Dudley a lonely little figure out there in the dim
light, with just the suggestion of a droop about her lips and
wistfulness in her eyes. He believed that she found herself left out
in the cold with those other two, but was too proud to complain. He
felt a tenderness springing up in his heart and spreading to his eyes
as he leaned towards her with a protecting air.

She was small and fragile. It made him feel big and protective; and he
liked it. Has was so tal and straight and slim and boyish - not in the
least the sort of person one could really feel protective to; and he
liked clinging women... His head bent down quite near to hers as he
said in a low tone: "I suppose they are like lovers, those two, and you
feel a little out of it, eh?"

"Yes" - confidingly and gratefully - "and it makes me very unhappy,
because I love to slave for Basil just as much as Ethel does. But he
does not want me... " with a little sad air.

"Oh, I think you are mistaken. It could never be that. It is only
that they have always been so devoted, and I expect it is too lonely
for you here. You do not get enough change. Would you care to go to