and
there, patting their old vellum-bound backs fondly before he returned
them to their shelves. They absorbed him, and yet the footman bringing
in his tea on a tray heard him saying, "I must not worry."

Jean had always come to him with his troubles ever since he was a
child, and the worst of all had been brought about by a woman. That
was years ago now. Hilaire had been away from England, and he had
come back to find his brother aged and altered--and married.

They had got on so well together without women in these latter years
that Hilaire had hoped they might live and die in peace, but it seemed
that it was not to be. Jean had gone out again in the car to look for
his Olive. Well, if she made him happy Hilaire thought they might get
on very well after all. But he had forebodings, and later, he sat
frowning at the white napery and glittering glass and silver reflected
in the polished walnut wood of his well-appointed table, and he
refused soup and fish with unnecessary violence. Jean loved this girl
and she could make him happy if she would, but would she? She was
evidently not of a "coming-on disposition"; she was good, and Jean
was, unfortunately, still married to the other.

It had been raining all day. The wind moaned in the trees and sighed
in the chimney, and now and again the blazing logs on the hearth
hissed as drops fell on them from above.

"There is a good fire in the signorino's dressing-room, I hope. He has
been out all day, and it is so stormy that--"

"The signorino has come in, _eccellenza_. He--he brought a lady with
him. She seemed faint and ill, and I sent for the gardener's wife to
come and look after her. I have given her the blue room, and the
housekeeper is with her now. She was busy with the dinner when she
first came." The old butler rubbed his hands together.

"I hope I did right," he said after a pause.

Hilaire roused himself. "Oh, quite right, of course. She will want
something to eat."

"I have sent up a tray--"

"Ah, when?"

"He--here he is."

The old man drew back as Jean came in. "I am sorry to be late,
Hilaire."

"It does not matter."

Thereafter both sat patiently waiting for the end of a dinner that
seemed age-long. When, at last, they were alone Jean rose to his feet;
he was very pale and his brown eyes glittered.

"Did Stefano tell you? I have found her and brought her here."

"Oh, she has come, has she?"

"You think less of her for that. Ah, you will misju