"How do you propose to prevent it, m'dear?"

"I propose that _you_ should prevent it."

"I? How?"

Kitty laid an urgent hand on his arm.

"You must go over to Trenby and see Roger."

"See Roger? My dear girl, he won't be able to see visitors for days yet."

"Oh, yes, he will," replied Kitty. "Isobel Carson rang up just now to ask if Nan would come over. It appears that, barring the injury to his back, he escaped without a scratch. He didn't even _know_ he was hurt till he found he couldn't use his legs. Of course, he'll be in bed.

Isobel says he seems almost his usual self, except that he won't let anyone sympathise with him over his injury. He's just savage about it."

Barry made no answer. He reflected that it was quite in keeping with all be knew of the man for him to bear in silence the shock of knowing that henceforward he would be a helpless cripple. Just as a wild animal, mortally hurt, seeks solitude in which to die, so Roger's arrogant, primitive nature refused to tolerate the pity of his fellows.

"Well," queried Barry grudgingly. "If I do see him, what then?"

"You must tell him that Peter is free and make him release Nan from her engagement. In fact, he must do more than that," she continued emphatically. "In her present mood Nan would probably decline to accept her release. He must absolutely _refuse_ to marry her."

"And supposing he doesn't see doing that?"

Kitty's lip curled.

"In the circ.u.mstances, I should think that any man who cared for a woman and who wasn't a moral and physical coward, would see it was the one and only thing he could do."

Her husband remained silent.

"You'll go, Barry?"

"I don't care for interfering in Trenby's personal affairs. Poor devil! He's got enough to bear just now!"

Sudden tears filled Kitty's eyes. She pitied Roger from the bottom of her heart, but she must still fight for the happiness of Nan and Peter.

"I know," she acquiesced unhappily. "But, don't you see, if he doesn't bear just this, too, Nan will have to endure a twofold burden for the rest of her life. Oh, Barry!"--choking back a sob--"Don't fail me!

It's a man's job--this. No woman could do it, without making Roger feel it frightfully. A man so hates to discuss any physical disablement with a woman. It hurts his pride. He'd rather ignore it."

"But where's the use?" protested Barry. "If Peter is off to-morrow to the back of beyond, you're still no further on. You've only made things doubly hard for that poor devil up at the Hall without accomplishing anything else."

"Peter won't go to-morrow," a.s.serted Kitty. "I've settled that. I wired him to come down here--I sent the wire the minute after breakfast. He'll be here to-night."

"Pooh! He'll take no notice of a telegram like that! A man doesn't upset the whole of his plans to go abroad because a pal in the country wires him 'to come down'!"

"Precisely. So I worded my wire in a way which will ensure his coming," replied Kitty, with returning spirit.

Barry looked, at her doubtfully.

"What did you put on it?"

"I said: '_Bad accident here. Come at once_.' I know that will bring him. . . . And it has the further merit of being the truth!" she added with a rather shaky little laugh.

"That will certainly bring him," agreed Barry, a brief flash of amus.e.m.e.nt in his eyes. It was so like Kitty to dare a wire of this description and chance how her explanation of it might be received by the person most concerned. "But suppose Trenby declines point-blank to release Nan?" he pursued. "What will you do then--with Peter on your hands?"

"Well, at least Peter will understand what Nan is doing and why she's doing it. Given that he knew the whole truth, I think he'd probably run away with her. I know _I_ should--if I were a man! Now, will you go and see Roger, please?"

"I suppose I shall have to. But it's a beastly job." Barry's usually merry eyes were clouded.

"Beastly," agreed Kitty sympathetically. "But it's got to be done."

Ten minutes later she watched her husband drive away in the direction of Trenby Hall, and composed herself to wait patiently on the march of events.

Barry looked pitifully down at the big, helpless figure lying between the sheets of the great four-poster bed. Except for an unwonted pallor and the fact that no movement of the body below the waist was visible, Roger looked very much as usual. He waved away the words of sympathy which were hovering on Barry's lips.

"Nice of you to come so soon," he said curtly. "But, for G.o.d's sake, don't condole with me. I don't want condolences and I won't have 'em."

There was a note in his voice which told of the effort which his savage self-repression cost him.

Barry understood, and for a few minutes they discussed, things in general, Roger briefly describing the accident.

"Funny how things happen," he observed. "I suppose I'm about as expert a driver as you'd get. There was practically nothing I couldn't do with a car--and along come a dog and a kiddy and flaw me utterly in two minutes. I've had much nearer shaves a dozen times before and escaped scot-free."

They talked on desultorily for a time. Then suddenly Roger asked:

"When's Nan coming to see me? I told Isobel to 'phone down to Mallow this morning."

"You're hardly up to visitors," said Barry, searching for delay. "I don't suppose I ought to have come, really."

Roger looked at him with eyes that burned fiercely underneath his s.h.a.ggy brows.

"I'm as right as you are--except for my confounded back," he answered.

"I've not got a scratch on me. Only something must have struck me as the car overturned--and a bit of my spinal anatomy's gone phut."

"You mayn't be as badly injured as you think," ventured Barry. "Some other doctor might give you a different report."

"Oh, he's quite a shining light--the man who came down here. Spine's his job. And his examination was thorough enough. There's nothing can be done. My legs are useless--and I'm a strong, healthy man who may live to a ripe old age."

He turned his head on the pillow and Barry saw him drag the sheet between his teeth and bite on it. He crossed to the window, giving the man time to regain his self-command.

"Well, what about Nan?" Roger demanded at last harshly. "When's she coming?"

Barry faced round to the bed again.

"I came to talk to you about Nan," he replied with reluctance. "But--"

"Talk away, then!"

"Well, it's very difficult to say what I have to tell you. You see, Trenby, this ghastly accident of yours makes a difference in--"