Amaldi had promised Bobby this toy the afternoon of his
call. Then she said, in as commonplace a tone as she could manage:

"I see no liberty in it--only a natural piece of kindness. Bobby took a
great fancy to him. He promised to send this toy."

Chesney turned on her.

"Throwing a nubbin to the calf to catch the cow, as you say in Virginia,
eh?" he said brutally. She flushed with such crimson intensity that the
tears sprang to her eyes. In a ringing voice she cried out, as she saw
him eyeing the flush jeeringly:

"It's for you ... for _you_ that I am blushing!"

Without another look at him, she took up the toy and went out of the
room.

She was so pale in her gown of white crepe when she came downstairs,
dressed for dinner, that he said, after eyeing her discontentedly:

"Good Lord! You look like the family ghost. Can't you stick on a bit of
rouge?"

"No. I don't like rouge."

His eyes fixed on the chaplet of ivy leaves in her shaded hair.

"I suppose that garland is to complete the impression of an Iphigenia
about to be sacrificed, eh?"

"Cecil...." she said it earnestly, impressively. "Don't let's quarrel
to-night."

"Why not to-night especially?"

"Because...." her lip quivered. "I've so looked forward to being proud
of you to-night."

He struggled against it, but she had touched him. His face softened. He
just brushed her shoulder with his great hand.

"You're a fine thing, by God!" he said, in a husky voice.

They drove to Westminster in silence.

* * * * *

At half-past eight the twilight was still clear and soft. The women's
bare shoulders and jewelled heads gleamed charmingly against the dark
sheen of the light-scattered river. Such of them as were made up for
artificial light looked as though they had strayed from another century
and forgotten to have their hair powdered also. Those that were prettily
painted reminded Sophy of strange orchids that would show best by
candle-light. She herself felt still and listless. Glancing at these men
and women gathered together for the evening, she saw as she realised
their personalities that the occasion would be "bwilliant" as Olive had
said. And she felt so dull--as though the flame of her spirit had died
down into pale smoke.

Olive found the chance to whisper a few words. Sophy had told her
frankly how ill Cecil had been only two weeks before, and of his renewed
interest in present political questions. She had