lked in a low tone to a dark woman who
had been a beauty and was the most thoroughly well-dressed of the
extremely well-dressed party. Lady Fan bit her lip for a moment, and
then said something at which all the others laughed--except Brook and
the advanced beauty, who continued to talk in undertones.

To Clare's mind there was about them all, except Brook, a little dash
of something which was not "quite, quite," as the world would have
expressed it. In her opinion Lady Fan was distinctly disagreeable,
whoever she might be--as distinctly so as Brook was the contrary. And
somehow the girl could not help resenting the woman's way of treating
him. It offended her oddly and jarred upon her good taste, as something
to which she was not at all accustomed in her surroundings. Lady Fan was
very exquisite in her outward ways, and her speech was of the proper
smartness. Yet everything she did and said was intensely unpleasant to
Clare.

The Bowrings and the regular guests finished their dinner before the
yachting party, and rose almost in a body, with a clattering of their
light chairs on the tiled floor. Only the English old maids kept their
places a little longer than the rest, and took some more filberts and
half a glass of white wine, each. They could not keep their eyes from
the party at the other end of the table, and their faces grew a little
redder as they sat there. Clare and her mother had to go round the long
table to get out, being the last on their side, and they were also the
last to reach the door. Again the young girl felt that strong desire to
turn her head and look back at Brook and Lady Fan. She noticed it this
time, as something she had never felt until that afternoon, but she
would not yield to it. She walked on, looking straight at the back of
her mother's head. Then she heard quick footsteps on the tiles behind
her, and Brook's voice.

"I beg your pardon," he was saying, "you have dropped your shawl."

She turned quickly, and met his eyes as he stopped close to her, holding
out the white chudder which had slipped to the floor unnoticed when she
had risen from her seat. She took it mechanically and thanked him.
Instinctively looking past him down the long hall, she saw that the
little lady in white had turned in her seat and was watching her. Brook
made a slight bow and was gone again in an instant. Then Clare followed
her mother and went out.

"Let us go out behind the house," she said when they were in