was heavy.

CHAPTER XXX

THE LADY FROM BEYOND

The morning was sultry, brooding, steamy. Antonia was at her music, and
from the room where Shelton tried to fix attention on a book he could
hear her practising her scales with a cold fury that cast an added gloom
upon his spirit. He did not see her until lunch, and then she again sat
next the Connoisseur. Her cheeks were pale, but there was something
feverish in her chatter to her neighbour; she still refused to look at
Shelton. He felt very miserable. After lunch, when most of them had
left the table, the rest fell to discussing country neighbours.

"Of course," said Mrs. Dennant, "there are the Foliots; but nobody calls
on them."

"Ah!" said the Connoisseur, "the Foliots--the Foliots--the
people--er--who--quite so!"

"It's really distressin'; she looks so sweet ridin' about. Many people
with worse stories get called on," continued Mrs. Dennant, with that
large frankness of intrusion upon doubtful subjects which may be made by
certain people in a certain way, "but, after all, one couldn't ask them
to meet anybody."

"No," the Connoisseur assented. "I used to know Foliot. Thousand
pities. They say she was a very pretty woman."

"Oh, not pretty!" said Mrs. Dennant! "more interestin than pretty, I
should say."

Shelton, who knew the lady slightly, noticed that they spoke of her as in
the past. He did not look towards Antonia; for, though a little troubled
at her presence while such a subject was discussed, he hated his
conviction that her face, was as unruffled as though the Foliots had been
a separate species. There was, in fact, a curiosity about her eyes, a
faint impatience on her lips; she was rolling little crumbs of bread.
Suddenly yawning, she muttered some remark, and rose. Shelton stopped
her at the door.

"Where are you going?"

"For a walk."

"May n't I come?".

She shook her head.

"I 'm going to take Toddles."

Shelton held the door open, and went back to the table.

"Yes," the Connoisseur said, sipping at his sherry, "I 'm afraid it's all
over with young Foliot."

"Such a pity!" murmured Mrs. Dennant, and her kindly face looked quite
disturbed. "I've known him ever since he was a boy. Of course, I think
he made a great mistake to bring her down here. Not even bein' able to
get married makes it doubly awkward. Oh, I think he made a great
mistake!"

"Ah!" said the Connoisseur, "but d' you suppose that makes much