, of our tactics in South Africa
(rotten of course beyond all words), and of farming on his land in the
country (unspeakably rotten), and was cheerful about all these things.
He knew that he had been self-sacrificing and had spent a whole
afternoon in cheering up "that poor devil, Seddon. Got to lie on his
back all his life, poor chap. Active beggar he was too."

He overwhelmed Lord John, whom he liked but scorned. "Never takes any
decent exercise, John Beaminster. Always about with a parcel of women."
Finally he departed, carrying with him a faint scent of soap and
tobacco, swearing that it was the closest night he'd ever known and
wiping his red forehead with the air of one who rules this country and
is going very shortly to enjoy an excellent meal.

Soon Uncle John also departed.

Roddy, alone with Rachel, faintly smiled and then closed his eyes again.

"Better go and dress, dear. It's gone half-past six."

"What on earth did he stay all that time for, roaring like a bull?" she
cried indignantly. "Tired you out. Roddy, dear, I don't think I'll go
out to dinner. I'll send a wire to Lady Carloes."

"No, you must," he said firmly. "It's too late to disappoint her."

"It's such an appalling night. I'm not feeling awfully well. I don't
think I could stand one of her dinners. There'll be old Lord Crewner,
old Mrs. Brunning and young somebody or other for me, and I believe
Uncle Richard. I simply couldn't stand it."

"Aren't you well?" He looked up at her sharply.

"Not very." Their eyes met; she turned hers away. She was desperately
near to tears, near to flinging herself down at his side and hiding her
head and telling him all. "Wait--wait--perhaps he knows nothing ..."

Still looking away from him she said, "Oh yes! I must go, of course.
It's only this thunder that one feels."

She bent down, hurriedly, and kissed him. They said good night to one
another and she left the room.

Later, in the carriage, she saw his white face and was miserable. She
thought of Breton and that made her miserable too. To everyone she
seemed to bring unhappiness. The stifling evening held a hand at her
throat; the carriage moved languidly along--on every side of her she saw
people listlessly moving as though controlled by an enchantment. She
really was ill. "If I don't look out," she thought, "I shall be
hysterical to-night. I shall just have to hold on and keep quiet. I've
never felt like this before. Fancy being hysterical befor