evor did not so much as know that she had left
her childhood behind her yet. He was still wondering what childish
peccadillo was troubling her, keeping her from accepting his gift. At
least, he was very far from suspecting her actual reason; nor must he
ever suspect.

Never, as long as they lived, must he know that she had refused the first
thing of value that he had offered her since their wedding because in an
instant of overwhelming revelation she had just recognized the fact that
she loved--had loved for years--another man.

PART III

CHAPTER I

WAR

Two days before that on which Aunt Philippa had decided to take her
departure Mordaunt went again to town. Noel, whose holidays were drawing
to a close, accompanied him to the station in a state of high jubilation,
albeit Holmes was in charge of the motor and there was not the faintest
chance of his being allowed to take the wheel.

"I hope you're going to behave yourself," were Mordaunt's last words.

And the youngster's cheery grin and impudent "You bet, old chap!" ought
to have warned him not to hope for behaviour too exemplary.

Noel, in fact, had been anticipating his brother-in-law's departure with
considerable eagerness. Though he liked him thoroughly, he was an
undoubted check upon his enjoyment. He kept him within bounds after a
fashion which had at first amused but had of late begun somewhat to pall
upon him; and Noel was only awaiting a suitable opportunity to kick over
the traces and gallop free. On this occasion Mordaunt had decided to
spend the night in town, so circumstances were propitious.

As for Mordaunt, he had dismissed Noel from his mind almost before the
train was out of the station. But for her aunt's presence, he would have
persuaded Chris to go with him, even though he knew that she had not the
smallest wish to do so. He was growing very anxious with regard to her,
and he was firmly determined that she should have a change of scene as
soon as Noel's holidays and Aunt Philippa's protracted stay came to an
end. It was not that she seemed ill, but she was very far from being
herself, and there were times when he even fancied that she simulated
gaiety for the deliberate purpose of deceiving him. He knew, too, that
her sleep was often broken and troubled, but he never commented upon
this; she was so plainly averse to any criticism from him or anyone. A
shrewd suspicion had begun to take root in Mordaunt's mind to account for