drea had thought of this when she had made the arrangement.

They lunched together, and Paul did his utmost to make the time
pass pleasantly for his brother. When they parted, too, late in the
afternoon, he referred once more to Mrs. de Vaux's desire that he
should come down to the Abbey for a few days.

"I want you to think of it seriously, Arthur," he said, as they shook
hands through the carriage window. "The mother is very anxious to have
you, and I am sure we can make things pleasant for you. I shall speak
to Drummond about leave if I see him to-morrow."

Arthur assented dubiously, and without any enthusiasm.

"Awfully good of you to want me," he remarked. "I daresay I'll be able
to come. I'll try, anyhow--just for a day or two."

The train steamed off, and Paul walked slowly back to his carriage.

"Where to, sir?" the man asked.

Paul hesitated for a moment. Then he gave Adrea's address, and was
driven away.

CHAPTER IX

"AH! HOW FAIR MY WEAKNESS FINDS THEE"

Paul found no one in the hall of the house where Adrea lived to take
him to her, so after waiting a few minutes for her maid, whom the
porter had twice fruitlessly summoned, he ascended the stairs alone,
and knocked at the door of her rooms.

At first there was no reply. He tried again a little louder, and this
time there was a sound of some one stirring within.

"Come in, Celeste," was the drowsy answer.

He turned the handle and walked in, carefully closing the door behind
him. At first the room appeared to be in semi-darkness, for a clear
spring day's sunshine was brightening the streets which he had just
left, and here the heavy curtains were closely drawn, as though
to keep out every vestige of daylight. But gradually his eyes grew
accustomed to the shaded twilight and he could make out the familiar
objects of the room; for although it was only his second visit, they
were familiar already in his thoughts.

Strangely enough it seemed to him, after his first hasty glance
around, that the room was empty; but just then a sudden gleam from
the bright fire fell upon Adrea's hair, and he saw her. He stood for a
moment silent and motionless. She was curled up on a huge divan
drawn close to the fireplace, with her limbs doubled under her like a
panther's, and her arms, from which the loose sleeves had fallen back,
clasped half-bare underneath her head. The peculiar grace of movement
and carriage, which had made her dancing so famous, was