He rolled an elbow-chair forward, and put her into it tenderly.

"Say what you will," said John.

"This is comfortable," she said, leaning her head wearily on her hand;
"to talk to a--a friend who understands, and who will not scold.
But you can't understand unless I tell you everything; and Timothy
himself, after all, would be the first to explain to you that it isn't
my tears nor my kisses, nor my consolation he wants. You didn't think
so _really_, did you?"

John hesitated, remembering Sir Timothy's words, but she did not wait
for an answer.

"Yes," she said calmly, "he wishes me to be in my proper place. It
would be a scandal if I did such a remarkable thing as to leave
home on any pretext at such a moment. Only by being extraordinarily
respectable and dignified can we live down the memory of his father's
unconventional behaviour. I must remember my position. I must smell
my salts, and put my feet up on the sofa, and be moderately overcome
during the crisis, and moderately thankful to the Almighty when it's
over, so that every one may hear how admirably dear Lady Mary behaved.
And when I am reading the _Times_ to him during his convalescence,"
she cried, wringing her hands, "Peter--Peter will be thousands of
miles away, marching over the veldt to his death."

"You make very sure of Peter's death," said John, quietly.

"Oh yes," said Lady Mary, listlessly. "He's an only son. It's always