He paused, wondering how to put it, yet feeling that he really must at
all costs make matters fairly clear to his companion.

"Yes?" said Miss Van Tuyn sweetly.

"To-day, this afternoon, I think that your dear Miss Cronin failed once
or twice to grasp my full meaning when I was talking with her."

"Oh, Fanny! But she's an old fool! Of course she's a dear, and I'm very
fond of her, but she is essentially nebulous. And what was it that you
think she misunderstood?"

Braybrooke hesitated. It really was very difficult to put what he wanted
to say into words. Scarcely ever before had he felt himself so incapable
of dealing adequately with a socially awkward situation. If only he knew
what Miss Cronin had said to Miss Van Tuyn while he was ordering tea!

"I could scarcely say I know. I really could not put my finger upon it,"
he said at last. "There was a general atmosphere of confusion, or so it
seemed to me. We--we discussed marriage."

"I hope the old dear didn't think you were proposing to her?"

"Good heavens--oh, no! no! I don't quite know what she thought." (He
lowered his eyes.) "But it wasn't that."

"That's a mercy at any rate!"

Braybrooke still kept his eyes on the ground, but a dogged look came
into his face, and he said, speaking more resolutely: