st him, but after all a man of thirty-four was no infant, and
in some respects he was as old as he would ever be. He knew the value
of dignity and self-control, and whatever might come he would sacrifice
neither. But he sighed heavily. "Whatever might come." But he
refused to dwell on alternatives.

It was ten o'clock when he presented himself at Madame Zattiany's door.
As he had hoped, his ring was answered. Hohenhauer was not the man to
call on a woman at ten in the morning.

The footman permitted himself to stare, and said deprecatingly: "I am
very sorry, Mr. Clavering, but Madame told me to admit no visitors----"

"Did she?" He entered and tossed his hat on a high Italian chair.
"Kindly tell her that I am in the library and shall remain there until
she is ready to come down."

The man hesitated, but after all Clavering had had the run of the
house, and it was possible that Madame believed him still to be in the
mountains. At all events he knew determination when he saw it, and
marched reluctantly up the stairs.

Clavering went into the library. He was filled with an almost
unbearable excitement, but at least the man's assertion that she was at
home to no one cemented his belief that she meant to see nothing
further of Hohenhauer.

He glanced round the beautiful mellow room so full of memories. After
all he had been happier here than he had ever been in his life--until
they had gone up to the woods! The room's benignant atmosphere seemed
to enfold him, calmed his fears, subdued that inner quiver. Surely she
would surrender to its influence and to his--whatever had happened. He
knew she had always liked him the better because he did not make love
to her the moment they met, but today he would take her by surprise,
give her no time to think.

But, as Mrs. Oglethorpe had once told him, a clever man is no match for
a still cleverer woman.

At the end of fifteen minutes the footman opened the door and announced:

"Madame is in the car, sir, and begs you will join her."

Clavering repressed a violent start and an imprecation. But there was
nothing to do but follow the man; fortunately he did not have what was
known as an "open countenance." Let her have her own way for the
moment. He could--and would--return with her. For the moment he felt
primitive enough to beat her.

She was wearing a black dress with a long jade necklace and a large
black hat, and, as he ran down the steps, he had time fur