n she thought he wasn't noticing, as if she were wondering still what
he had done--forsooth--to make those people hate him so. Well, there it
was! Annette had come back, and things had worn on through the
summer--very miserable, till suddenly Fleur had said she was going to
marry young Mont. She had shown him a little more affection when she
told him that. And he had yielded--what was the good of opposing it?
God knew that he had never wished to thwart her in anything! And the
young man seemed quite delirious about her. No doubt she was in a
reckless mood, and she was young, absurdly young. But if he opposed her,
he didn't know what she would do; for all he could tell she might want to
take up a profession, become a doctor or solicitor, some nonsense. She
had no aptitude for painting, writing, music, in his view the legitimate
occupations of unmarried women, if they must do something in these days.
On the whole, she was safer married, for he could see too well how
feverish and restless she was at home. Annette, too, had been in favour
of it--Annette, from behind the veil of his refusal to know what she was
about, if she was about anything. Annette had said: "Let her marry this
young man. He is a nice boy--not so highty-flighty as he seems." Where
she got her expressions, he didn't know--but her opinion soothed his
doubts. His wife, whatever her conduct, had clear eyes and an almost
depressing amount of common sense. He had settled fifty thousand on
Fleur, taking care that there was no cross settlement in case it didn't
turn out well. Could it turn out well? She had not got over that other
boy--he knew. They were to go to Spain for the honeymoon. He would be
even lonelier when she was gone. But later, perhaps, she would forget,
and turn to him again! Winifred's voice broke on his reverie.

"Why! Of all wonders-June!"

There, in a djibbah--what things she wore!--with her hair straying from
under a fillet, Soames saw his cousin, and Fleur going forward to greet
her. The two passed from their view out on to the stairway.

"Really," said Winifred, "she does the most impossible things! Fancy her
coming!"

"What made you ask her?" muttered Soames.

"Because I thought she wouldn't accept, of course."

Winifred had forgotten that behind conduct lies the main trend of
character; or, in other words, omitted to remember that Fleur was now a
"lame duck."

On receiving her invitation, June had first though