Guy drove straight from the station to Ben's office. Like Cecil, he, too, was bronzed and hard and the typical soldier with his little trim moustache, but he looked worried.

He embraced her with ardour. "You're very pretty," he said. "I'd forgotten."

"Nonsense," said Ben. "I'm a 'capable woman'; no more and no less."

He held er at arm's length. "You're very attractive," he said. "I can't think why you're not married."

"I've given you one reason," said Ben. "'Capable women' remain free."

"Every woman should be married," said Guy.

"Especially Melanie," said Ben, laughing. But Guy did not laugh. His face clouded.

"Oh, my hat!" he said. "That's what I came to talk to you about. Before I went home even. By the way, how is the governor?"

"Just the same," said Ben. "His capacity for bearing other people's calamities with fortitude, as somebody said, develops every day."

"And the step?" he asked.

"Oh, she's all right," said Ben; "you'll like her."

"Rolls, too, doesn't she?" Guy inquired.

"Rolls," said Ben.

"Does she let the governor touch it?" asked Guy.

"How little you seem to know of your own father!" said Ben. "And I thought of you as a wise child."

"I may have been once," said Guy, "but that's all over. Oh, the mess I've been getting into!"

"What kind of a mess?" Ben asked anxiously.

"On the boat," said Guy.

"Cards?" she asked.

"No, I wish it was. No, I've—well, the fact is, Ben, my dear, I'm engaged."

"I know that," said Ben. "You've been engaged for years. Don't Melanie and I live together, and don't I see her watching for the postman?"

"Oh, cut that out," said Guy, with a groan. "That's not the engagement I mean. I'm engaged to someone else, someone I met on the boat."

"My dear Guy," said Ben, "this is awful."

"Don't I know it?" said Guy.

"But I mean for Melanie," said Ben.

"For both of us," said Guy.

"Can't you break off the new affair?" Ben asked.

"I suppose I could if I wanted to," said Guy. "But I don't. I'm potty about her. The other thing was a ghastly mistake. Surely," he went on, "you would rather I discovered the mistake while there was yet time than go on with it and ruin both our lives? I know it sounds like a novel, but you know what I mean."

"Yes," said Ben, "I quite agree with that. But I wonder if it hasn't been too quick for you to be sure about yourself? You've known one girl five years and the other less than five weeks."

"That's true," said Guy. "But I don't think time means much. What about love at first sight?"

"I know," said Ben. "But liner love—especially Indian liner love—is supposed to be particularly misleading."

"This isn't," said Guy firmly. "This is the goods. I may be impulsive," he went on, "but I'm not an ass; at any rate I'm not a silly ass. I've kept my eyes open, and I'll bet you that for every marriage that has gone wrong after a very short engagement I can show you two that have gone equally wrong after a long one."

"I think that's exceedingly probable," said Ben, with a sigh. "What I am thinking is not that you are any less likely to be happy with your new girl than with Melanie; I am thinking of Melanie herself and what is to be done about her. What do you mean to do? She's expecting you to-day; looking forward to it. What do you mean to do?"

"Well," said Guy, "that's just it. I was wondering if you would help me, if you would explain."

Ben laughed bitterly. "Me again!" she said. "'Always go to Ben when you're in a mess!' Has the liner girl got any money?" she asked.

"Money! What's money?" said Guy. "Don't be squalid."

"Melanie's two hundred a year might be very useful," said Ben.

"You're too late," said Guy. He pulled at his absurd moustache. "But if you wouldn't mind breaking it to Melanie tactfully, and letting her down gently, you'd be a brick. And I'm sure you could; no one could do it better. And, by Jove! you advertise to do it too—'Domestic Problems.' Now compared with this one, all other domestic problems are 'also rans.' Be a darling, Ben, and smooth things with Melanie. After all, she's not a child; she knows that in this kind of matter minds often change."

"I know Melanie pretty well," said Ben, "and I should guess you're making a very foolish mistake. She may look bored and take too little trouble to make you her slave, but she's true as steel and she's as fond of you as she can be. And another thing, she's always amusing; and from what I know of life, a girl who is always amusing is not to be lightly turned down. It isn't fair to break a long engagement like this, without seeing her again first."

"Oh, as to that," said Guy, "engagements are being broken every day; why not ours? You will help me, won't you?"

Ben stood up. "No, Guy," she said, "I won't. Not like that, anyway. Usually when people ask me to do things I comply. But not if I don't believe I ought to. In your case I am certain that you, and you alone, are the person to explain. It would be very cowardly not to, and you are a soldier and therefore not a coward. You owe it to Melanie to tell her yourself, face to face; and the sooner you do it, the better. That's my last word."

"I think you're very selfish," said Guy.

"I can't help what you think," said Ben. "That's my last word. She'll be at home after five. I shan't get back till seven or later. And now I must earn my living."

Guy went off like a bear, and Ben spent a wretched day thinking about Melanie's misery and deploring the fickleness of men and Staveleys.

She was therefore the more rejoiced when on reaching Aubrey Walk she heard Melanie singing in her room and found her arraying herself in her best, preparatory to dining with Guy and going to the play.

Ben expressed no surprise.

"How did Guy strike you?" she asked, after a while.

"At first he seemed awfully gloomy," said Melanie. "He didn't even seem to want to kiss me. But after a little while he got quite like his old self again, only more so, and was the nicest thing on earth, and he wants the wedding directly. This week if possible, he said; but of course that's absurd."

At that moment Guy's taxi was heard and he came bounding up the stairs, while Melanie retired to complete her toilet.

He put his fingers on his lips as he met his sister. "Not a word," he said. "It's all right. That other affair was a mistake. Those Indian liners, you know. That proverb about being off with the old love is a very sound one, and almost directly I saw Mel again I knew I didn't want to be on with the new."

"Have you told the new?" Ben asked.

"Not yet," he said. "I was wondering if you——"

Ben drew back. "Not I!" she exclaimed.

Guy burst into roars of triumphant laughter. "You bought it!" he cried, and roared again. "What I was going to say," he went on, "was that I was wondering if you would—post this letter to her. I haven't got a stamp."

Ben threw a cushion at him with masterly accuracy, as Melanie, all radiance and joy, came into the room.