rong at Hamil. And
Malcourt's smile became flickering and uncertain when she left the
terrace with Hamil, moving very slowly side by side across the lawn.

"Such lots of pretty women," commented Shiela. "Have you been passably
amused?"

"Passably," he replied in a slightly sullen tone.

"Oh, only passably? I rather hoped that unawakened heart of yours might
be aroused to-day."

"It has been."

"_Not_ Mrs. Ascott!" she exclaimed, halting.

"Not Mrs. Ascott."

"Mrs. Tom O'Hara! Is it? Every man promptly goes to smash when Mrs. Tom
looks sideways."

"O Lord!" he said with a shrug.

"That is not nice of you, Mr. Hamil. If it is not with her you have
fallen in love there is a more civil way of denying it."

"Did you take what I said seriously?" he asked--"about falling in love?"

"Were you not serious?"

"I could be if you were," he said in a tone which slightly startled
her. She looked up at him questioningly; he said:

"I've had a stupid time without you. The little I've seen of you has
spoiled other women for me. And I've just found it out. Do you mind my
saying so?"

"Are you not a little over-emphatic in your loyalty to me? I like it,
but not at the expense of others, please."

They moved on together, slowly and in step. His head was bent, face
sullen and uncomfortably flushed. Again she felt the curiously
unaccountable glow in her own cheeks responding in pink fire once more;
and annoyed and confused she halted and looked up at him with that frank
confidence characteristic of her.

"Something has gone wrong," she said. "Tell me."

"I will. I'm telling myself now." She laughed, stole a glance at him,
then her face fell.

"I certainly don't know what you mean, and I'm not very sure that you
know."

She was right; he did not yet know. Strange, swift pulses were beating
in temple and throat; strange tumults and confusion were threatening his
common sense, paralyzing will-power. A slow, resistless intoxication had
enveloped him, through which instinctively persisted one warning ray of
reason. In the light of that single ray he strove to think clearly. They
walked to the pavilion together, he silent, sombre-eyed, taking a
mechanical leave of his hostess, fulfilling conventions while scarcely
aware of the routine or of the people around him; she composed, sweet,
conventionally faultless--and a trifle pale as they turned away together
across the lawn.

When they took their places side by side in the