e gardens belonging to the hotel, had long
since made up her mind that there should at last be a positive severance
between herself and her devoted Sophie. For half an hour she had been
walking in silence by the count's side; and though, of course, she had
heard all that he had spoken, she had been able in that time to consider
much. It must have been through Sophie that the count had heard of her
journey to the Isle of Wight; and, worse than that, Sophie must, as she
thought, have instigated this pursuit. In that she wronged her poor
friend. Sophie had been simply paid by her brother for giving such
information as enabled him to arrange this meeting. She had not even
counselled him to follow Lady Ongar. But now Lady Ongar, in blind wrath,
determined that Sophie should be expelled from her bosom. Lady Ongar
would find this task of expulsion the less difficult in that she had
come to loathe her devoted friend, and to feel it to be incumbent on her
to rid herself of such devotion. Now had arrived the moment in which it
might be done.

And yet there were difficulties. Two ladies living together in an inn
cannot, without much that is disagreeable, send down to the landlord
saying that they want separate rooms, because they have taken it into
their minds to hate each other. And there would, moreover, be something
awkward in saying to Sophie that, though she was discarded, her bill
should be paid--for this last and only time. No; Lady Ongar had already
perceived that would not do. She would not quarrel with Sophie after
that fashion. She would leave the Isle of Wight on the following morning
early, informing Sophie why she did so, and would offer money to the
little Franco-Pole, presuming that it might not be agreeable to the
Franco-Pole to be hurried away from her marine or rural happiness so
quickly. But in doing this she would be careful to make Sophie
understand that Bolton Street was to be closed against her for ever
afterward. With neither Count Pateroff nor his sister would she ever
again willingly place herself in contact.

It was dark as she entered the house--the walk out, her delay there, and
her return having together occupied her three hours. She had hardly felt
the dusk growing on her as she progressed steadily on her way, with that
odious man beside her. She had been thinking of other things, and her
eyes had accustomed themselves gradually to the fading twilight, But
now, when she saw the glimmer of the lamps