d him. She did not look a
moment older than when he had seen her last at Claridge's, or indeed
than when he had first seen her standing under the statue of Echo in
Mrs. Chetwinde's drawing-room. The same feverish refinement still was
with her, belonged to her; she looked as before, wasted as if by
some obscure disease, haunted, almost distressed, and yet absolutely
self-controlled, mistress of herself and unconscious of critical
observation. Not even for a moment, seeing her thus again after a long
interval of time, did Dion hesitate about her beauty. Undoubtedly she
had beauty. The shape of her head was lovely, and her profile was like a
delicate vision seen in water. The husky sound of her voice in her first
words to him took him back to the Divorce Court.

"You haven't changed," she said, staring intently at him in her oddly
impersonal way, which appraised and yet held something of inwardness.

"But people say I have changed very much."

"People?"

"Well--my people."

"I don't call natural development change. I saw in you very plainly when
we first met what you are now. You have got there. That's all."

Her lips were very pale. How strangely unshining her hair was.

"Yes, she looked punished!" he thought. "It's that look of punishment
which sets her quite apart from all other women."

She glanced at the letter he was holding and sat down on a very broad
green divan. There were many cushions upon it; she did not heap them
behind her, but sat quite upright. She did not ask him to sit down. He
would do as he liked. Absurd formalities of any kind did not enter into
her scheme of life.

"How is Jimmy?" he asked.

"Brilliantly well. He's been at Eton for a long time, doing dreadfully
at work--he's a born dunce--and splendidly at play. How he would
appreciate you as you are now!"

She spoke with a gravity that was both careless and intense. He sat down
near her. In his letter asking to see her he had not told her that
he had a special object in writing to visit her. By her glance at
Brayfield's letter he knew that she had gathered it.

They talked of Jimmy for a few minutes; then Dion said:

"My regiment was brigaded with Lord Brayfield's for a time in South
Africa. I was in the action in which he was shot, poor chap. He saw me
and remembered that I was a--a friend of yours. When he was dying he
wanted to see me. I was sent for, and he gave me this letter for you. He
asked me to give it to you myself if I ca