“I suppose it’s settled,” he asked, staring at the fire.

“Settled?  How?”

“When it comes to meetings at Kew Gardens—­”

“Oh don’t misunderstand,” exclaimed Franks nervously, “I told you that it was with the mother I made the appointment—­not with Bertha herself.  I’m quite sure Bertha never heard a word of it.”

“Well, it comes to the same thing.”

“Not at all!  I half wish it did.”

“Half?” asked Warburton, with a quick glance.

“Can’t you see that I haven’t really made up my mind,” said Franks, fidgeting in his chair.  “I’m not sure of myself—­and I’m still less sure of her.  It’s all in the air.  I’ve been there perhaps half a dozen times—­but only like any other acquaintance.  And, you know, she isn’t the kind of girl to meet one half way.  I’m sorry you don’t know her.  You’d be able to understand better.—­Then, you see, there’s something a little awkward in her position and mine.  She’s the intimate friend of—­of the other one, you know; at least, I suppose she still is; of course we haven’t said anything about that.  It makes misunderstandings very possible.  Suppose she thought I made friends with her in the hope of getting round to the other again?  You see how difficult it is to judge her behaviour—­ to come to any conclusion.”

“Yes, I see,” Warburton let fall, musingly.

“And, even if I were sure of understanding her—­there’s myself.  Look at the position, now.  I suppose I may call myself a successful man; well on the way to success, at all events.  Unless fortune plays me a dirty trick, I ought soon to be making my three or four thousand a year; and there’s the possibility of double that.  Think what that means, in the way of opportunity.  Once or twice. when I was going to see the Crosses, I’ve pulled myself up and asked what the deuce I was doing—­but I went all the same.  The truth is, there’s something about Bertha—­I wish you knew her, Warburton; I really wish you did.  She’s the kind of girl any man might marry.  Nothing brilliant about her—­but—­well, I can’t describe it.  As different as could be from—­the other.  In fact, it isn’t easy to see how they became such close friends.  Of course, she knows all about me—­what I’m doing, and so on.  In the case of an ordinary girl in her position, it would be irresistible; but I’m not at all sure that she looks at it in that way.  She behaves to one—­well, in the most natural way possible.  Now and then I rather think she makes fun of me.”

Warburton allowed a low chuckle to escape him.

“Why do you laugh?—­I don’t mean that she does it disagreeably.  It’s her way to look at things on the humorous side—­and I rather like that.  Don’t you think it a good sign in a girl?”

“That depends,” muttered Will.

“Well, that’s how things are.  I wanted to tell you.  There’s nobody else I should think of talking to about it.”

Silence hung between them for a minute or two.