ver two hours! He went up on to the downs, by the way they generally
came home, and for an hour he rode, keeping a sharp lookout for any sign
of her. No use; and he turned home, hot and uneasy. On the hall table
were her riding-whip and gloves. His heart cleared, and he ran upstairs.
She was doing her hair and turned her head sharply as he entered.
Hurrying across the room he had the absurd feeling that she was standing
at bay. She drew back, bent her face away from him, and said:

"No! Don't pretend! Anything's better than pretence!"

He had never seen her look or speak like that--her face so hard, her
eyes so stabbing! And he recoiled dumbfounded.

"What's the matter, Gyp?"

"Nothing. Only--don't pretend!" And, turning to the glass, she went on
twisting and coiling up her hair.

She looked lovely, flushed from her ride in the wind, and he had a
longing to seize her in his arms. But her face stopped him. With fear
and a sort of anger, he said:

"You might explain, I think."

An evil little smile crossed her face.

"YOU can do that. I am in the dark."

"I don't in the least understand what you mean."

"Don't you?" There was something deadly in her utter disregard of him,
while her fingers moved swiftly about her dark, shining hair--something
so appallingly sudden in this hostility that Summerhay felt a peculiar
sensation in his head, as if he must knock it against something. He sat
down on the side of the bed. Was it that letter? But how? It had not
been opened. He said:

"What on earth has happened, Gyp, since I went up yesterday? Speak out,
and don't keep me like this!"

She turned and looked at him.

"Don't pretend that you're upset because you can't kiss me! Don't be
false, Bryan! You know it's been pretence for months."

Summerhay's voice grew high.

"I think you've gone mad. I don't know what you mean."

"Oh, yes, you do. Did you get a letter yesterday marked 'Immediate'?"

Ah! So it WAS that! To meet the definite, he hardened, and said
stubbornly:

"Yes; from Diana Leyton. Do you object?"

"No; only, how do you think it got back to you from here so quickly?"

He said dully:

"I don't know. By post, I suppose."

"No; I put it in your letter-box myself--at half-past five."

Summerhay's mind was trained to quickness, and the full significance of
those words came home to him at once. He stared at her fixedly.

"I suppose you saw us, then."

"Yes."

He got up, made a helpless movement