hem be.

So the clouds gathered overhead, as in their hearts, and it came on to
pour with rain; and the ladies made a hurried rush to the house.

The hostess did not stand near Francis Markrute during the shooting.
Some shy pleasure made her avoid him for the moment. She wanted to hug
the remembrance of her great joy of the morning, and the knowledge that
to-morrow, Sunday, after lunch, would bring her a like pleasure. And for
the time being there was the delight of thinking over what he had said,
the subtlety of his gift, and the manner of its giving.

Nothing so goes to the head of a woman of refined sensibilities as the
intoxicating flattery of thought-out action in a man, when it is to lay
homage at her feet, and the man is a grave and serious person, who is no
worshiper of women.

Ethelrida trod on air, and looked unusually sweet and gracious.

And Francis Markrute watched her quietly, with great tenderness in his
heart, and not the faintest misgiving. "Slow and sure" was his motto,
and thus he drew always the current of success and contentment.

His only crumpled roseleaf was the face of his niece, which rather
haunted him. There seemed no improvement in the relations of the pair,
in spite of Zara having had ample cause to feel jealous about Lady
Highford since their arrival. Elinka, too, had had strange and
unreasonable turns in her nature, that is what had made her so
attractive. What if Zara and this really fine young Englishman, with
whom he had mated her, should never get on? Then he laughed, when he
thought of the impossibility of his calculations finally miscarrying. It
was, of course, only a question of time. However, he would tell her
before she left for her "home-coming" at Wrayth on Monday, what he
thought it was now safe and advisable that she should know, namely,
that on her husband's side the marriage had been one of headlong desire
for herself, after having refused the bargain before he had seen her.
That would give her some bad moments of humiliation, he admitted, which
perhaps she had not deserved, though it would certainly bring her to her
knees and so, to Tristram's arms.

But for once, being really quite preoccupied with his own affairs and a
little unbalanced by love as well, he miscalculated the force of a
woman's pride. Zara's one idea now was to hide from Tristram the state
of her feelings, believing, poor, bruised, wounded thing, that he no
longer cared for her, believing that she h