nshine of Cannes
had driven it away. She had presently been glad that she had not found
Caroline in Paris. For if she had made that confession she would have
put an obstacle in the path which she now resolved to tread.

She had told herself that, and finally she had decided to return to
London.

But she had gone first to Geneva, and had put herself there into the
hands of a certain specialist, whose fame had recently reached the ears
of a prominent member of the "old guard," no other than the Duchess of
Wellingborough.

And now she had come back with her sheaves and had been met on the
threshold by Beryl with her hideous confidences.

She had not yet told Craven of her return. For the moment she was glad
that she had not given way to her impulse and telephoned to him on
the Sunday. She might have caught him with her message just as he was
starting for Rye with Beryl. That would have been horrible. Of course
she would not telephone to him now. She resolved to ignore him. He had
forgotten all about her. She would seem to forget about him. There was
nothing else to be done. Pride, the pride of the _Grande Dame_ which she
had never totally lost, rose up in her, hot, fiery even; it mingled with
an intense jealousy, and made her wish to inflict punishment. She was
like a wounded animal that longs to strike, to tear with its claws, to
lacerate and leave bleeding. Nevertheless she had no intention of taking
action against either of those who had hurt her. Beryl should have her
triumph. Youth should be left in peace with its own cruelty.

Two days passed before Craven knew of Lady Sellingworth's return to
Berkeley Square. Braybrooke told him of it in the club, and added the
information that she had arrived on the previous Saturday.

"Oh!" said Craven, with apparent indifference. "Have you seen her?"

Braybrooke replied that he had seen her, and that she was looking, in
his opinion, remarkably well, even somewhat younger than usual.

"She seems to have had an excellent time on the Riviera and in
Switzerland."

"In Switzerland!" said Craven, thinking of Braybrooke's remarks about
Catherine Bewdley and Lausanne.

"Yes, but I don't think she has been ill. I ventured to--just to say a
word as to doctors, and she assured me she had been perfectly well all
the time she was away. Are you going to see her?"

"I've got a good deal to do just now," said Craven, coldly and with a
slight rise of colour. "But of course I hope to