es, just to
give the rest of the party time to be assembled in the big salon. She
was coming from the communicating passage to her part of the house when
Mr. Arranstoun came out of his room, and they were obliged to go down
the great staircase together.

To see him suddenly in evening dress like this brought her wedding night
back so vividly to her, she with difficulty kept a gasp from her breath.
He was certainly the most splendidly good-looking creature, with his
blue eyes and dark hair and much fairer little moustache.

"I am late!" she cried laughing, before he could speak a word. "Pere
Anselme will scold me! Come along!" and she tripped forward with a
glance over her shoulder.

Michael's eyes blazed--she was a truly bewitching morsel in her fresh
white frock with its bunch of crimson sweet peas stuck in the belt.

"Your flowers should be stephanotis," he said, and that was all, as he
followed her down the stairs.

"I cannot bear them," she retorted and shuddered a little. "I only care
for out-door, simple things like my sweet peas."

He did not speak as they went along the gallery--this disconcerted
her--what did it mean? She had been prepared to fence with him, and keep
him in his place, she was ready to defend herself on all sides--and no
defence seemed necessary! A sudden cold feeling came over her as though
excitement had died down and she opened the salon door quickly and
advanced into the room.

Michael had come to a determination while dressing--Henry had walked in
and smoked a cigarette with him before he began, and had then showed
plainly his joy and satisfaction. She--his worshiped lady--had never
before been so tender and gracious, and he was awfully happy because
things were going well. And what did his friend Michael think of his
choice? Was she not the sweetest woman in the world?

Michael said he had seen better-looking ones, but admitted she had
charm. He was really suffering, the situation was so impossible and he
had not yet made up his mind what he ought to do--tell Henry straight
out that Sabine was his wife or what? If he did that he might be going
contrary to some plan of hers--for she evidently had no intention yet of
informing Lord Fordyce, or of giving the least indication that she
recognized him--Michael. It was the most grotesque puzzle and contained
an element of the tragic, too--for one of them.

Henry's happiness and contentment touched him--his dear old friend!--he
felt ext