wift
recollection of her position came to her, and the light died out of her
face. She rose at once.

"I shall be pleased to do what I can. I sing a little, but I play
badly."

She affected not to notice Lord St Maurice's arm, but crossed the room
by his side toward the piano. He opened it, arranged the stool, and
remained standing there.

She struck a few minor chords, and suddenly the room seemed full of a
sad, plaintive music rising gradually to a higher pitch, and then dying
away as her voice took up the melody and carried it on. Lady St. Maurice
held her hand to her side for a moment, and her husband frowned. It was
a Sicilian love song which she was singing; the song of a peasant whose
bride lies dead by his side, the victim of another's jealousy. Adrienne
had heard it often in the old days, and the beautiful wild music which
rang in their ears was full of memories to her. It closed abruptly, and
only Lumley, with an unusual sparkle in his eyes, found words to thank
her.

"Are all your songs sad ones, Miss Briscoe?" Lord St. Maurice asked
abruptly. "Can't you offer us something in the shape of an antidote?"

She sat down at the piano again.

"I do not know anything gay," she said. "I can only sing what I feel. I
will play something."

She dashed off into a light Hungarian dance, full of _verve_ and
sparkle, and Lord St. Maurice kept time with his foot, smiling
approvingly. Directly it was over she closed the piano and turned to
Lady St. Maurice.

"If I may I should be glad to go to my room now," she said. "I had no
idea it was so late."

Lumley held the door open for her, and felt unreasonably disappointed
because she passed out with a slight inclination of the head, but
without looking at him. Then he turned back into the room, and they all
three looked at one another for a moment.

"She is marvelously handsome," Lord St. Maurice pronounced.

"Marvelously!" his son echoed softly.

But Lady St. Maurice said nothing.

CHAPTER XX

LORD LUMLEY AND MARGHARITA

"Geoffrey, come here for a moment!"

The Earl of St. Maurice, who was a most obedient husband, folded up his
paper and joined his wife at the window.

"Well, dear."

"Look there."

He followed her finger. It pointed to three figures; a man in shooting
clothes, with a gun under his arm, a girl and a child between them,
strolling along the cliffs outside the grounds. He glanced at them
carelessly, and back into his wife's face as