orget."

She moved to the door, kissed her hand to Pensee, and bowed prettily to
Sara.

"I must get back to my work," she said, and so left them. The two women
turned toward each other.

"There is no hope for Orange," observed Sara drily: "no man would ever
forget her."

"He needn't forget her, but----"

"Yes, it would have to be sheer, absolute forgetfulness. I like her. I
like all beautiful things--pictures, statues, bronzes, porcelains, and
white marble visions! She is a white marble vision. And Orange will love
her forever and ever and ever. And when she is dead, he will love her
still more!"

She threw back her head and laughed--till Pensee laughed also. Then they
wished each other goodbye, and parted.

CHAPTER XXII

When Sara reached home, she was dismayed to hear that Lord Reckage had
called during her absence and was waiting for her return. The prospect
of an interview with him seemed so disagreeable that she walked first to
the library, and sat there alone, for some moments, before she could
summon the presence of mind which every sense warned her would be
required for the ordeal. At last, with a pinched heart, she went up the
great staircase, and found Reckage writing at her own table in the
drawing-room. He turned quickly, and jumped to his feet at the rustle of
her dress. He was looking unusually handsome, she thought, very
animated, very dashing.

"You will forgive these clothes," said he, "but I have ordered Pluto
round at four o'clock, and I am going for a long ride."

"What a strange idea!" she answered, taking off her gloves. "Where are
you going?"

"To Hampstead Heath. I need the air and the exercise. I have to compose
a speech."

"The speech for the Meeting?"

His brow darkened, and he pushed back with his foot a log which was
falling from the open grate.

"No, not that speech. Another. Disraeli has asked me to go in his stead
to Hanborough. I don't like to attach over-importance to the invitation,
but he must mean it as an encouragement. Evidently, he wishes to show
that Aumerle and the rest are without any shadow of right in their
attacks. I have been above five years working up this society, and if,
at the end of that time, I am president only by dint of _family
interest_, be assured the situation cannot be worth having. When I
leave, it will go all to pieces."

"But you don't intend to leave, surely?"

"Indeed, I do."

"Have you hinted at resignation?"

"No, I sh