he believed that he was welcome, he never
pressed his company upon his dearly loved friend. Even in his great
affection he preserved a certain ceremoniousness. Even in his love he
never took a liberty. In modern days he still held to the reserve of
the very great gentleman, old-fashioned perhaps now, but nevertheless
precious in his sight.

He would have been not a little surprised had he been able to see his
Adela at this moment.

She had changed the plain black gown in which she had received him, and
was dressed in dark red velvet. She wore a black hat. Two big rubies
gleamed in her ears, and there was another, surrounded with diamonds,
at her throat. Her gown was trimmed with an edging of some dark fur.
As usual her hands were covered by loose white gloves. She was shod for
walking out. Her eyebrows had been carefully darkened. There was some
artificial red on her lips. Her white hair was fluffed out under the
hat brim, and looked very thick and vital. Her white skin was smooth
and even. Her eyes shone, as Cecile had just told her, "_comme deux
lampes_." She was a striking figure as she sat on her sofa very upright
near a lamp, holding a book in her hand. She even looked very handsome
and, of course, very distinguished. But her face was anxious, her bright
eyes were uneasy, and there was a perceptible stamp of artificiality
upon her. A woman would have noticed it instantly. Even an observant man
would probably not have missed it.

She seemed to be reading at first, and presently there was a faint
rustle. She had turned a page. But soon she put the book down in her
lap, still keeping her hand on it, and sat looking about the room. The
clock chimed seven. She moved and sighed. Then again she sat very still
like one listening. After a while she lifted the book, glanced at it
again, and then put it down, got up and went to the fireplace. She
turned on the lights there, leaned forward and looked into the glass.
Her face became stern with intentness when she did that. She put up a
hand to her hair, turned her head a little to one side, smiled faintly,
then a little more, and looked grave, then earnest. Finally she put both
her hands on the mantelpiece, grasped it and stared into the glass.

In that moment she was feeling afraid.

She had arranged to dine with Alick Craven once more at the _Bella
Napoli_. He would come for her in a few minutes. She was wondering very
much how exactly she would appear to him, how old,