hose existence he
was unaware, settled on his lips. He got up, shook himself, as a dog
shakes off a beating, and walked away, with his mouth set very firm.

CHAPTER XXIV

Left alone among the little mahogany tables of Gustard's, where the
scent of cake and of orange-flower water made happy all the air, Barbara
had sat for some minutes, her eyes cast down--as a child from whom a toy
has been taken contemplates the ground, not knowing precisely what she
is feeling. Then, paying one of the middle-aged females, she went out
into the Square. There a German band was playing Delibes' Coppelia; and
the murdered tune came haunting her, a very ghost of incongruity.

She went straight back to Valleys House. In the room where three hours
ago she had been left alone after lunch with Harbinger, her sister was
seated in the window, looking decidedly upset. In fact, Agatha had
just spent an awkward hour. Chancing, with little Ann, into that
confectioner's where she could best obtain a particularly gummy sweet
which she believed wholesome for her children, she had been engaged
in purchasing a pound, when looking down, she perceived Ann standing
stock-still, with her sudden little nose pointed down the shop, and her
mouth opening; glancing in the direction of those frank, enquiring eyes,
Agatha saw to her amazement her sister, and a man whom she recognized as
Courtier. With a readiness which did her complete credit, she placed a
sweet in Ann's mouth, and saying to the middle-aged female: "Then you'll
send those, please. Come, Ann!" went out. Shocks never coming singly,
she had no sooner reached home, than from her father she learned of the
development of Miltoun's love affair. When Barbara returned, she was
sitting, unfeignedly disturbed and grieved; unable to decide whether or
no she ought to divulge what she herself had seen, but withal buoyed-up
by that peculiar indignation of the essentially domestic woman, whose
ideals have been outraged.

Judging at once from the expression of her face that she must have heard
the news of Miltoun, Barbara said:

"Well, my dear Angel, any lecture for me?"

Agatha answered coldly:

"I think you were quite mad to take Mrs. Noel to him."

"The whole duty of woman," murmured Barbara, "includes a little
madness."

Agatha looked at her in silence.

"I can't make you out," she said at last; "you're not a fool!"

"Only a knave."

"You may think it right to joke over the ruin of Miltoun'