ung man was
finding her difficult. She was aware that Uncle Richard watched her and
was expecting her to sustain the family ease and dignity. They were at a
little round table, so that he was able to hear all the conversation.

"Yes," she said desperately. "I quite agree with you. The lack of
enterprise at Covent Garden is shameful. We want more competition...."

"So I said to her, 'My good woman, if you really imagine that I'm taken
in by your pretending that that's Dresden'..."

"Herr Becknet is coming in afterwards," old Lady Carloes said. "You'll
like him, my dear. He plays the harp too wonderfully. I've asked a few
friends to come in. Of course the drawing-room isn't very large, but I
hope----"

The room was swimming before Rachel. A stuffed bird in a glass case
sailed across the table towards her and the fireplace tottered and
staggered. She was just able to gasp: "Lady Carloes--please--it's this
heat or something----"

There were cries of agitation. The young man gave her his arm into the
passage, she was surrounded by anxious servants; someone fanned her, she
drank water and was conscious of Lady Carloes' blue satin and Uncle
Richard's shirt-front.

She knew now what she wanted; she pulled herself together and absolutely
refused Uncle Richard's escort.

"No, I shall be _quite_ all right--really. No, Uncle Richard, I won't
hear of it. It was silly of me to come out really. I've been feeling
this thundery weather all day. No, Lady Carloes, thank you, I'll just go
straight back and go to bed. I won't hear of anyone coming with me,
thanks. No, _really_ I _am_ so sorry, Lady Carloes. I shall be all right
in the morning. Yes, if you'd call a cab, please. No, Uncle Richard, I'd
rather not."

She was better. She knew what she wanted. At last the cab was there, but
it was not "York Terrace" that she had commanded, but "24 Saxton
Square."

It was Lizzie whom she needed.

IV

It was a long drive to Saxton Square. She was better now, but still
strangely unwell, and to open both the windows was of no use: not a
breath stirred, the trees, dark and sombre, were of iron, the lamps gave
no radiance and the sky was black.

She was terribly frightened, frightened because here in the dark of her
carriage, thoughts of Breton attacked her as they had never done before.
She hid her face in her burning hands; her body was shivering. Breton
was before her as he had been in his room. She felt his hands about
her, his b