“Thank you,” and the doubtful tone induced Rachel to encourage her diffidence.

“I know you write a great deal, and I am sure you must produce something worthy to see the light.  I have no scruple in making the request, as I know Colonel Keith agrees with me that womanhood need not be an extinguisher for talent.”

“I am not afraid of him,” Ermine managed to say without more smile than Rachel took for gratification.

“Then if you would only entrust me with some of your fugitive reflections, I have no doubt that something might be made of them.  A practised hand,” she added with a certain editorial dignity, “can always polish away any little roughnesses from inexperience.”

Ermine was choking with laughter at the savage pulls that Colin was inflicting on his moustache, and feeling silence no longer honest, she answered in an odd under tone, “I can’t plead inexperience.”

“No!” cried Rachel.  “You have written; you have not published!”

“I was forced to do whatever brought grist to the mill,” said Ermine.  “Indeed,” she added, with a look as if to ask pardon; “our secrets have been hardly fair towards you, but we made it a rule not to spoil our breadwinner’s trade by confessing my enormities.”

“I assure you,” said the Colonel, touched by Rachel’s appalled look, “I don’t know how long this cautious person would have kept me in the dark if she had not betrayed herself in the paper we discussed the first day I met you.”

“The ‘Traveller,’” said Rachel, her eyes widening like those of a child.  “She is the ’Invalid’!”

“There, I am glad to have made a clean breast of it,” said Ermine.

“The ’Invalid’!” repeated Rachel.  “It is as bad as the Victoria Cross.”

“There is a compliment, Ermine, for which you should make your bow,” said Colin.

“Oh, I did not mean that,” said Rachel; “but that it was as great a mistake as I made about Captain Keith, when I told him his own story, and denied his being the hero, till I actually saw his cross,” and she spoke with a genuine simplicity that almost looked like humour, ending with, “I wonder why I am fated to make such mistakes!”

“Preconceived notions,” said Ermine, smiling; “your theory suffices you, and you don’t see small indications.”

“There may be something in that,” said Rachel, thoughtfully, “it accounts for Grace always seeing things faster than I did.”

“Did Mr.—­, your philanthropist, bring you this today?” said the Colonel, taking up the paper again, as if to point a practical moral to her confession of misjudgments.

“Mr. Mauleverer?  Yes; I came down as soon as he had left me, only calling first upon Fanny.  I am very anxious for contributions.  If you would only give me a paper signed by the ‘Invalid,’ it would be a fortune to the institution.”

Ermine made a vague answer that she doubted whether the ‘Invalid’ was separable from the ‘Traveller,’ and Rachel presently departed with her prospectus, but without having elicited a promise.