"But Tony isn't a rake!" protested Ann, flushing quickly. "There's any
amount of good in him, and he might--might steady down if he were married."

"Let him steady down before marriage, not after"--grimly. "A woman may
throw her whole life's happiness into the scales and still fail to turn the
balance. Without love--the love that can forgive seventy times seven and
then not be tired--she'll certainly fail. And you don't love Tony."

It was an assertion rather than a question, yet Ann felt that Lady Susan
was waiting for an answer.

"N-no," she acknowledged at last. "But I feel as though he belongs to me in
a way. You see, Virginia 'left' him to me."

"You're not called upon to marry a legacy," retorted Lady Susan.

Ann smiled.

"No, I suppose not." She was silent a moment. "I wish Sir Philip didn't
lead him such a life. It's more than any man could be expected to stand."

Lady Susan paused in the doorway.

"Well, my dear, don't vex your soul too much about it all. However badly
people mismanage our affairs for us, things have a wonderful way of working
out all right in the long run."

Left alone, Ann strolled out on to the balcony which overlooked the
lake, and, leaning her arms on the balustrade, yielded to the current