ght, the figures of Lord Henry
and Vanessa, walking slowly along the lower path which led to Headstone.
As he had seen Lord Henry with Agatha on the same path about an hour
before he could not at first believe his eyes. But the form of the
stylish young Jewess was unmistakable. Lord Henry must have gone back to
exchange companions. Where was Guy then? However, Leonetta had not seen
them, so it did not matter.

"Quick, tell me--yes or no! because I must make all the arrangements for
our flight immediately."

She made a movement to rise.

"No, don't get up," he said quickly. "You've no idea how beautiful you
look there."

"But I must," cried the girl, "one of my slides is sticking into my
head! If you _will_ handle me so roughly," she added, smiling with the
deepest contentment.

"Let me find it for you, don't get up!" he pleaded.

But what Delaraynes want, God wants; and in an instant his obstructing
hand was brushed aside and she was sitting up.

He looked into her eyes, hoping to fasten them on himself, and keep them
off the hateful spectacle not fifty yards away. For a few seconds he was
successful. He then proceeded to kiss her again in order to blot out the
vision for yet a while longer.

"Denis!" she exclaimed, "for mercy's sake let me put my slide right, and
then you can do what you like."

He desisted, shaken with overstimulated craving, and then all at once,
his heart sank; for her keen eyes had seen what he hoped would have
disappeared before she could notice it.

"Why, look!" she cried, "there's that little cat Vanessa walking alone
with Lord Henry!"

"Yes," he rejoined, with as much indifference as he could summon.

"What on earth can they be doing?" she demanded craning her neck to see
as much of them as possible.

"Oh, nothing--they're only walking. Slow enough in all conscience, I
should think."

Leonetta was silent, her eyes fixed upon the couple slowly proceeding
along the lower path. What could Lord Henry possibly see in that
Jezebel! She recalled his hauteur and studious coldness towards herself,
his air of deep understanding and mastery, his magic look of wizardly
youth, his eloquence, his immense self-possession, his mysterious
connection with Cleopatra's indisposition and recovery. What could it be
that made him so indifferent to her?

She rose.

"Oh, don't move!" said Denis irritably.

"I must see where that little cat is taking him," she muttered. And
creeping to the neares