make love to him."

"I will consider about it," replied Agatha gravely.

Jane uttered a groan and sank into a chair, which creaked at the
shock. Agatha turned on the threshold, and seeing her shaking her head,
pressing her eyes, and tapping with her heel in a restrained frenzy,
said quickly,

"Here are the Waltons, and the Fitzgeorges, and Mr. Trefusis coming
upstairs. How do you do, Mrs. Walton? Lady Brandon will be SO glad to
see you. Good-evening, Mr. Fitzgeorge."

Jane sprang up, wiped her eyes, and, with her hands on her hair,
smoothing it, rushed to a mirror. No visitors appearing, she perceived
that she was, for perhaps the hundredth time in her life, the victim
of an imposture devised by Agatha. She, gratified by the success of her
attempt to regain her old ascendancy over Jane--she had made it with
misgiving, notwithstanding her apparent confidence--went downstairs to
the library, where she found Sir Charles gloomily trying to drown his
domestic troubles in art criticism.

"I thought you were in the billiard room," said Agatha.

"I only peeped in," he replied; "but as I saw something particular going
on, I thought it best to slip away, and I have been alone ever since."

The something particular which Sir Charles had not wished to interrupt
was only a game of billiards.

It was the first opportunity Erskine had ever enjoyed of speaking to
Gertrude at leisure and alone. Yet their conversation had never been
so commonplace. She, liking the game, played very well and chatted
indifferently; he played badly, and broached trivial topics in spite of
himself. After an hour-and-a-half's play, Gertrude had announced that
this game must be their last. He thought desperately that if he were to
miss many more strokes the game must presently end, and an opportunity
which might never recur pass beyond recall. He determined to tell
her without preface that he adored her, but when he opened his lips a
question came forth of its own accord relating to the Persian way of
playing billiards. Gertrude had never been in Persia, but had seen
some Eastern billiard cues in the India museum. Were not the Hindoos
wonderful people for filigree work, and carpets, and such things? Did
he not think the crookedness of their carpet patterns a blemish? Some
people pretended to admire them, but was not that all nonsense? Was not
the modern polished floor, with a rug in the middle, much superior to
the old carpet fitted into the corners