orous hatred for the society which had seemed to accept her under
protest, for Francesca's sake, and she was ready enough to turn her back
on it before it should finally make up its polite mind to relegate her
to the middle distance of indifferent toleration.

As for Reanda, on that first morning she hated him with all her soul,
for himself, and for what he had done to her. She had words ready for
him, and she turned and fitted them in her heart that they might cut him
and stab him as long as he could feel. The selfishness with a tendency
to cruelty which was a working spring of her father's character was
strong in her, and craved the satisfaction of wounding. A part of the
sudden joy in life which she felt as she walked towards what had been
her home, lay in the certainty of dealing back fourfold hurt for every
real and fancied injury she had ever suffered at Reanda's hands.

She felt quite sure of finding him. She did not imagine it possible that
after what had happened he should go to the Palazzetto Borgia to work as
usual. Besides, he must have discovered her absence by this time, and
would in all probability be searching for her. She smiled at the idea,
and she went swiftly on, keenly ready to give all the pain she could.

At her own door the servant seemed surprised to see her. Every one had
supposed that she was still in her room, for it was not yet midday, and
she sometimes slept very late. She glanced at the hall table and saw
her key lying amongst the cards where she had thrown it when she had
left the house. The servant did not see her take it, for she made a
pretence of turning the cards over to find some particular one. She
asked indifferently about her husband. The man said that Reanda had gone
out as usual. Gloria started a little in surprise, and inquired whether
he had left no message for her. On hearing that he had given none, she
sent the servant away, went to her own room, and locked herself in.

With a curious Scotch caution very much at variance with her conduct,
she reflected that as the servants were evidently not aware of what had
taken place, they might as well be kept in the dark. In a few moments
she gave the room the appearance which it usually had in the morning.
With perfect calmness she dressed for the day, and then rang for her
maid.

She told the woman that she had slept badly, had got up early, and had
gone out for a long walk; that she now intended to leave Rome for a few
days, fo