, to behold the blue-robed
figure of Rowena standing in the doorway, her face white and set, her
wide reproachful eyes fixed on her sister's face!

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

It was an awkward moment for all three occupants of the room. The young
man stood, flushed and silent, looking from one sister to the other,
conscious of an increasing anger towards Maud, and a kindly and
chivalrous sympathy for the confusion of her sister. Poor girl! She
was too young, had too little experience of the world to carry off the
situation with a laugh. A young woman of society would have seized the
opportunity for cementing a friendship, would have swept gaily forward
holding out her skirts, and laughingly demanding his approval, but
Rowena could do none of these things, her utmost efforts could succeed
only in hiding the signs of confusion beneath a frosty coldness of
demeanour.

How unnatural was this manner was plainly demonstrated by the behaviour
of the offender herself. At the first moment of Rowena's appearance
Maud had appeared embarrassed indeed, but with a fearful joy mingling
with her shame, the joy of one who has greatly dared, and is prepared to
endure the consequences; but when Rowena swept forward, calm and
stately, when she seated herself and began to talk polite nothings, with
never so much as a word or a glance in her own direction, then, visibly
and unmistakably, terror fell upon Maud's childish heart--she made a
bee-line for the door, and slunk hastily out of sight.

"Little wretch!" soliloquised Guy Seton once more. "Lands me into this
pleasant position, and then sneaks away, and leaves me to fight it out
alone! Poor little girl!"--this last epithet obviously did _not_ refer
to Maud! "Hard lines to arrive at such an awkward moment. Furious, of
course, with the whole three--the child for speaking, with me for
hearing, with herself for having given the opportunity! Such a pretty
frock, too; and she is ripping in it! Jolly good of her to have taken
the trouble, but now I suppose she'll hate the sight of me, and bear me
a lasting grudge. Hope to goodness Golden-locks is not long in coming
back!"

"Quite a chilly wind. We are so very exposed and open in this house!"
Rowena was saying in high, artificial tones. She hailed the arrival of
tea with evident relief, and the conversation flowed on a trifle more
easily when there was something definite to do; nevertheless both heaved
sighs of joy as the sound of