ttention he was receiving; but his face wore a tranquil smile of
amusement which reassured her. Once he made a movement as if to go, but
she managed to say to him in passing:--

"Do not go yet unless you are obliged. Rupert is out with Mr. Fane."

"I did not come to see Rupert," said Percival, with a laugh in his
brilliant eyes.

"I have something to say to you, too," she went on seriously.

"Really? Then I will wait."

He had to wait some time before the room was cleared of guests. When at
last they found themselves alone, the day was closing in, and the wood
fire cast strange flickering lights and shadows over the walls. The room
was full of the scent of violets and white hyacinths. Percival leaned
back in an easy chair, with an air of luxurious enjoyment. And yet he
was not quite as much at his ease as he looked.

"You had something to say to me," he began, boldly. "I know perfectly
well what it is. You think I ought to have come to the wedding, and you
want to tell me so."

"Your conscience seems to say more than I should venture to," said
Angela, smiling.

"I had an engagement, as I wrote in my letter."

"One that could not be broken?"

"To tell the truth, I was not in an amiable mood. If I had come I should
probably have hurt their feelings more than by staying away. I should
have said something savage. Well,"--as he saw her lips move--"what were
you going to say?"

"Something very severe."

"Say it by all means."

"That you are trying to excuse your own selfishness by the plea of want
of self-control. The excuse is worse than the action itself."

"I am very selfish, I know," said Percival, complacently. "I'm not at
all ashamed of it. Why should I not consult my own comfort?"

"Why should you add one drop to the bitterness of Brian's cup?"

"I like that," said Percival, in an ironical tone. "It shows the extent
of a woman's sense of justice. I beg your pardon, Miss Vivian, for
saying so. But in my opinion Brian is a lucky fellow."

"You forget----"

"What do I forget? This business about his identity is all happily over,
and he is married to the woman of his choice. I wish I had half his
luck!"

"You have forgotten, Mr. Heron," said Angela, in a tone that showed how
deeply she was moved, "that Brian has had a great sorrow--a great loss.
I do not think life can ever be the same to him again--as it can never
be the same to me--since--Richard--died."

Her voice sank and faltered. For an inst