had had a definite
motive in coming to see her, and that the motive was not connected with
his visit to Paris.

His remarks about Craven had interested her because she was interested
in Craven, but it was not quite clear to her why Braybrooke should
suddenly concentrate on the young man's future, nor why he should,
with so much precaution, try to get at her opinion on the question of
Craven's marriage. When Braybrooke had first spoken to her of Craven he
had not implied that he and Craven were specially intimate, or that he
was deeply interested in Craven's concerns or prospects. He had
merely told her that Craven was a clever and promising "boy," with an
interesting mind and a nice nature, who had a great desire to meet her.
And she had good-naturedly said that Craven might call. It had all been
very casual. But Braybrooke's manner had now completely changed. He
seemed to think he was almost responsible for the young man. There had
even been something furtive in his demeanour when speaking about Craven
to her, and when she had forced him to explain and to say what was in
his mind, for a moment he had been almost confused.

What had it to do with her whether Craven married Beryl Van Tuyn or did
not marry her?

Although she had been interested when Braybrooke had spoken of Craven's
cleverness and energy, of his good prospects in his career, and of the
appreciation of Eric Learington--a man not given to undue praises--she
had been secretly irritated when he had come to the question of Beryl
Van Tuyn and the importance of Craven's marrying well. Why should he
marry at all? And if he must, why Beryl Van Tuyn?

Lady Sellingworth hated the thought of that marriage and the idea that
Braybrooke was probably intent on trying to bring it about, or at any
rate was considering whether he should make the endeavour, roused in her
resentment against him.

"Tiresome old man!" she said to herself, as she stood by the fire. "Why
won't he let things alone? What business is it of his?"

And then she felt as if Braybrooke were meditating a stroke against her,
and had practically asked her to help him in delivering the blow.

She felt that definitely. And immediately she had felt it she was
startled, and the strong sensation of being near to danger took hold of
her.

In all the ten years which had passed since the theft of her jewels
she had never once deliberately stretched out her hands to happiness.
Palliatives she had made the