eginning to
end, that soft, intangible barrier which at once checked and challenged
him.

Passion ran high in him. And, moreover, he was beginning to be more than
vaguely jealous. He had seen for himself how much there was in common
between her and Faversham; during the last fortnight he had met Faversham
at the cottage on several occasions; and there had been references to
other visits from the new agent. He understood perfectly that Lydia was
broadly, humanly interested in the man's task: the poet, the enthusiast
in her was stirred by what he might do, if he would, for the humble folk
she loved. But still, there they were--meeting constantly. "And he can
talk to her about all the things I can't!"

His earlier optimism had quite passed by now; probably, though
unconsciously, under the influence of Lydia's nascent friendship
with Faversham. There had sprung up in him instead a constant agitation
and disquiet that could no longer be controlled. No help--but rather
danger--lay in waiting....

Delorme had now turned away from Lydia to his hostess, and Lydia was
talking to Squire Andover on her other side, a jolly old boy, with a
gracious, absent look, who inclined his head to her paternally. Tatham
knew very well that there was no one in the county who was more rigidly
tied to caste or rank. But he was kind always to the outsider--kind
therefore to Lydia. Good heavens!--as if there was any one at the table
fit to tie her shoe-string!

His pulses raced. The heat, the golden evening, the flowers, all the
lavish colour and scents of nature, seemed to be driving him toward
speech--toward some expression of himself, which must be risked, even if
it lead him to disaster.

* * * * *

The dinner which appeared to Tatham interminable, and was really so
short, by Victoria's orders, that Squire Andover felt resentfully he had
had nothing to eat, at last broke up. The gentlemen lingered smoking on
the loggia. The ladies dispersed through the garden, and Delorme--after a
look round the male company--quietly went with them. So did the gentleman
in the dinner jacket and black tie. Tatham, impatiently doing his duty as
host, could only follow the fugitives with his eyes, their pale silks
and muslins, among the flowers and under the trees.

But his guests, over their cigars, were busy with some local news, and,
catching Faversham's name, Tatham presently recalled his thoughts
sufficiently to listen t