day,
she turned suddenly faint.

"Over here in the country about ten miles," Chiltern was saying. "I heard
of him, but I didn't expect anything until I went to look at him last
week."

"What do you call him?" asked Mrs. Rindge.

"I haven't named him."

"I'll give you a name."

Chiltern looked at her. "What is it?" he said.

"Oblivion," she replied:

"By George, Adele," he exclaimed, "you have a way of hitting it off!"

"Will you let me ride him this afternoon?" she asked.

"I'm a--a candidate for oblivion." She laughed a little and her eyes
shone feverishly.

"No you don't," he said. "I'm giving you the grey. He's got enough in him
for any woman--even for you: And besides, I don't think the black ever
felt a side saddle, or any other kind, until last week."

"I've got another habit," she said eagerly. "I'd rather ride him astride.
I'll match you to see who has him."

Chiltern laughed.

"No you don't," he repeated. "I'll ride him to-day, and consider it
to-morrow."

"I--I think I'll go back to the house," said Honora to Pembroke. "It's
rather hot here in the sun."

"I'm not very keen about sunshine, either," he declared.

At lunch she was unable to talk; to sustain, at least, a conversation.
That word oblivion, which Mrs. Rindge had so aptly applied to the horse,
was constantly on her lips, and it would not have surprised her if she
had spoken it. She felt as though a heavy weight lay on her breast, and
to relieve its intolerable pressure drew in her breath deeply. She was
wild with fear. The details of the great room fixed themselves indelibly
in her brain; the subdued light, the polished table laden with silver and
glass, the roses, and the purple hot-house grapes. All this seemed in
some way to be an ironic prelude to disaster. Hugh, pausing in his
badinage with Mrs. Rindge, looked at her.

"Cheer up, Honora," he said.

"I'm afraid this first house-party is too much for her," said Mrs. Kame.

Honora made some protest that seemed to satisfy them, tried to rally
herself, and succeeded sufficiently to pass muster. After lunch they
repaired again to the bridge table, and at four Hugh went upstairs to
change into his riding clothes. Five minutes longer she controlled
herself, and then made some paltry excuse, indifferent now as to what
they said or thought, and followed him. She knocked at his dressing-room
door and entered. He was drawing on his boots. "Hello, Honora," he said.

Honora turned to