was hating herself for her own pusillanimity.

"And the people?"

"Some of them."

And straightway she raised her fierce black eyes to his, and the man
before her understood, as plainly as any one need understand, that,
whoever else Miss Boyce might like, she did not like Lord Wandle, and
wished for no more conversation with him.

Her interrogator turned to Aldous with smiling _aplomb_.

"Thank you, my dear Aldous. Now let me retire. No one must _monopolise_
your charming lady."

And again he bowed low to her, this time with an ironical emphasis not
to be mistaken, and walked away.

Lady Winterbourne saw him go up to his wife, who had followed him at a
distance, and speak to her roughly with a frown. They left the room, and
presently, through the other door of the library which opened on the
corridor, she saw them pass, as though they were going to their
carriage.

Marcella rose. She looked first at Miss Raeburn--then at Aldous.

"Will you take me away?" she said, going up to him; "I am tired--take me
to your room."

He put her hand inside his arm, and they pushed their way through the
crowd. Outside in the passage they met Hallin. He had not seen her
before, and he put out his hand. But there was something distant in his
gentle greeting which struck at this moment like a bruise on Marcella's
quivering nerves. It came across her that for some time past he had made
no further advances to her; that his first eager talk of friendship
between himself and her had dropped; that his _acceptance_ of her into
his world and Aldous's was somehow suspended--in abeyance. She bit her
lip tightly and hurried Aldous along. Again the same lines of gay,
chatting people along the corridor, and on either side of the wide
staircase--greetings, introduction--a nightmare of publicity.

"Rather pronounced--to carry him off like that," said a clergyman to his
wife with a kindly smile, as the two tall figures disappeared along the
upper gallery. "She will have him all to herself before long."

* * * * *

Aldous shut the door of his sitting-room behind them. Marcella quickly
drew her hand out of his arm, and going forward to the mantelpiece
rested both elbows upon it and hid her face.

He looked at her a moment in distress and astonishment, standing a
little apart. Then he saw that she was crying. The colour flooded into
his face, and going up to her he took her hand, which was all she would
yield