But Clodagh sat suddenly upright, and with an abrupt gesture put her hand on her sister's shoulder.

"Nance," she said sharply, "you are talking about things that you don't understand. Don't talk about them! It--it annoys me!"

"But, Clo----"

For answer Clodagh stooped and kissed her almost nervously.

"When you are older, Nance, you will know that it is tactless to talk of certain things to certain people. Don't talk to me again of Sir Walter Gore. He and I have nothing to do with each other. We--we belong to different worlds."

Once more she bent and kissed Nance's startled, penitent face; and, putting her gently from her, rose and walked to the window.

For some minutes there was silence in the room; then Clodagh spoke in a completely different voice.

"Nance," she said, "there is something I want to tell you--something I should have written to you, and didn't----"

Nance, in the swift relief of her sister's altered tone, sprang to her feet; and, running across the room, threw her arms about her.

"And, Clo, there's something I ought to have written to you, only I was too shy--and had to wait till I could say it like this, with my arms round you----"

It was Clodagh's turn to look startled. She tried to hold Nance away from her, that she might see her face; but Nance only clung the closer.

"Clo, you love me? Oh, say you love me!"

"Of course I love you."

"And you won't be vexed?"

"Nance, what is it? You frighten me! What is it?"

"Oh, it's nothing frightening. It's--it's about Pierce--Pierce Estcoit----"

The words came forth with a tremendous gasp.

"What is it?"

"He--Clo, he wants to marry me. You're not vexed? Oh, Clo, you're not vexed?"

At last Nance's arms relaxed, and she looked up beseechingly into her sister's face.

In sudden nervous relief and amus.e.m.e.nt, Clodagh laughed; then her face became grave again, and she drew her sister to her with deep, impulsive tenderness.

"Vexed, darling?" she said--"vexed?"

Nance kissed her ecstatically.

"Oh, the relief of having it said!" she cried. "I have felt like a criminal, keeping it to myself. But Pierce said I could do more with one word than a dozen letters."

Clodagh looked down into the pretty, eager face, and laughed again softly, though her eyes were full of tears.

"Pierce was right," she said. "I don't think any one could say more in one word than you could. But do you love him, Nance? Do you love him?

That is the great, great thing. And you are so very young." A look of keen anxiety crossed her face, and she gazed into Nance's eyes, as if striving to read her heart.

Nance returned her look with a steadfast gravity, curious in one so young.

"Next to you, Clo, he's the best person in all the world," she said.

The tears in Clodagh's eyes brimmed over.

"You put me first? Really, Nance? Really?"

Nance nodded seriously.

"And next to you, he's the very best! But, Clo"--she blushed deeply--"he wants me to marry him soon--fearfully soon--in the autumn. He's coming over with Mrs. Estcoit and Daisy in three weeks' time, to try to persuade you. Clo, you're not vexed? He has promised that we shall be together more than half every year, if you wish."

Clodagh, touched by a pang of loneliness, turned away and gazed through the open window across the sleeping country.

"And you love him? You are certain that you love him?" She turned again and laid her hands on her sister's shoulders.

Nance's gaze, wise in its very youthfulness, met hers unflinchingly.

"I care for him like I care for you, Clo. And I've cared for you always."

Clodagh drew a long breath.

"Then I am satisfied. I shall not keep you from happiness." With a quiet movement she bent forward and kissed the soft hair above Nance's forehead.

After this seal of love, both were silent for a minute or two; then Nance spoke again, her lashes lowered, her fingers twisted tightly about her sister's.

"Clo, doesn't it seem wonderful that he should care for me--he, who is so bright and clever and rich? But I've been lucky in everything, haven't I? I haven't liked to say it before, but wasn't it awfully kind--awfully good of James----?"

Clodagh half withdrew her hand. In the surprising news that Nance had given her, she had forgotten the confession she had still to make.

"Clo, wasn't it awfully kind of him?"

Clodagh did not answer at once; and when she did so, her voice was strained.

"--To leave you that money? That thousand pounds?"

"Yes; the thousand pounds. Clo, you don't know the dozens and dozens of times it has made me happy to think of that since--since Pierce has cared for me. It isn't that I like money for itself; but, when one is horribly poor, one is sensitive about marrying a millionaire. I mean, you know----" Again her fingers clung to her sister's.

"Yes?"

"One feels that one would like to come to him with everything that--well--that his sister would have, if she married. It's very silly, of course. Clodagh, do I seem very silly?"

At any other time, Clodagh would have smiled at the ingenuousness of the words; but now some feeling within herself banished amus.e.m.e.nt.

"What is it, darling?" she asked. "There's something you are trying to say."

Nance looked up into her face.