a soft steady downpour. The cooler air which
swept into the room was almost faint with the delicious perfume of
flowers and shrubs bathed in the refreshing downpour.

"I think," he said, "that there is some magic abroad to-night. Did you
meet Lucifer walking in the rose garden?" he asked, turning slightly
towards his hostess. "The storm may have brought him--even here!"

"Neither Lucifer nor any other of his princely fellows," she answered.
"The only demon is here,"--she touched her bosom lightly--"the demon of
unrest. It is not I alone who am born with the wanderer's curse! There
are many of us, you know."

He shook his head.

"You have not the writing in your face," he said. "I do not believe that
you are one of the accursed at all. To-night----"

She was standing by his side now, looking out into the velvety darkness.
Her eyes challenged his.

"Well! To-night?"

"To-night you have the look of one who has found what she has sought for
for a long time. This sounds bald, but it is as near to truth as I can
get."

She was silent for a moment. She stood by his side listening to the soft
constant patter of the rain, the far-away rumblings of the dying storm.

"One has moods," she murmured.

"Heaven forbid that a woman should be without them!" he answered.

"Do you ever feel as though something were going to happen?" she asked
suddenly.

"Often," he answered; "but nothing ever does!"

Lady Peggy came yawning over to them.

"My dear," she said, "I feel it in my very bones. I firmly believe that
something is going to happen to every one of us. I have a most
mysterious pricking about my left elbow!"

"To every one of us?" Stephen Hurd asked, idly enough.

"To every one of us!" she answered. "To you, even, who live in Thorpe.
Remember my words when you get home to-night, or when you wake in the
morning. As for you, Wilhelmina, I am not at all sure that you have not
already met with your adventure."

Deyes lit a cigarette.

"Let us remember this," he declared. "In a week's time we will compare
notes."

Stephen Hurd stood up to take his leave.

"You are really going--soon?" he asked, as he bent over her carelessly
offered hand.

"As soon as I can decide where to go to," she answered.

"Can I give my father any message? Would you care to see him to-morrow
morning?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"It is not necessary," she answered.

He made his adieux reluctantly. Somehow he felt that the night h