z, as
a thousand others.

She sickened with anxiety as the moments passed.

Now, leaning upon the wall, she began to scan the lake. Presently she
saw the steamer approaching the landing-stage of Carate on the opposite
bank. The train from Rome had arrived. But Robin would doubtless come
by boat. There was at least another hour to wait. She left the wall
and walked quickly up and down, moving her hands and her lips. Now she
almost wished he were not coming. She recalled the whole story of her
acquaintance with Robin--his adoration of her when she was a girl, his
wish to marry her, his melancholy when she refused him, his persistent
affection for her after she had married Fritz, his persistent belief
that there was that within her which Fritz did not understand and could
never satisfy, his persistent obstinacy in asserting that he had the
capacity to understand and content this hidden want. Was that true?

Fritz had cared for nothing but the body, yet she had loved Fritz. She
did not love Robin. Yet there was a feeling in her that if he proved
true to his ideal now she might love him in the end. If only he would
love her--after he knew.

She heard a sound of oars. The blood rushed to her face. She drew back
from the wall and hurried into her house. All the morning she had been
making up her mind to go to meet Robin at once in the sunlight, to let
him know all at once. But now, in terror, she went to her room. With
trembling hands she pinned on a hat; she took out of a drawer the thick
veil she wore when travelling and tied it tightly over her face. Panic
seized her.

There was a knock at the door, the announcement that a signore was
waiting in the drawing-room for the signora.

Lady Holme felt an almost ungovernable sensation of physical nausea. She
went to her dressing-case and drank one or two burning drops of eau de
Cologne. Then she pulled down the veil under her chin and stood in the
middle of the room for several minutes without moving. Then she went
downstairs quickly and went quickly into the drawing-room.

Robin was there, standing by the window. He looked excited, with an
excitement of happiness, and this gave to him an aspect of almost boyish
youth. His long black eyes shone with eagerness when she came into the
room. But when he saw the veil his face changed.

"You don't trust me!" he said, without any greeting.

She went up to him and put out her hand.

"Robin!" she said.

"You don't trust me,"