"Please don't misunderstand me," he said. "I fully appreciate the honour
you have done me, but--" he shrugged his shoulders--"it is quite
impossible to accept it. It--you must see that for yourself--would be a
rather ridiculous situation. The Duchessa di Donatello and a friendship
with an under-gardener! I don't fancy either of us would care to be made
a mock of, even by the extremely small world in which we happen to live."
He stopped.

The Duchessa rose too. Her eyes were steely.

"Thank you for reminding me," she said. "In a moment of absurd
impulsiveness I had overlooked that fact. Also, thank you for--for your
hospitality."

She moved to the door without looking at him. Antony was before her, and
had it open. He followed her down the path and unfastened the wicket
gate. She passed through it without turning her head, and walked rather
deliberately down the lane.

Antony went back into the cottage. For a moment he stood looking at the
table, his throat contracted. Then slowly, and with oddly unseeing eyes,
he began clearing away the debris of the meal.

CHAPTER XXVII

LETTERS AND MRS. ARBUTHNOT

Trix was sitting in a summer-house in the garden of an hotel at
Llandrindod Wells. She was reading a letter, a not altogether
satisfactory letter to judge by the wrinkling of her brows, and the
gravity of her eyes.

The letter was from the Duchessa di Donatello, and ran as follows:

"My Dear Trix:

"I am glad you had a comfortable journey, and that Mrs. Arbuthnot had not
been pining for you too deeply. It is a pity her letters gave you the
impression that she was feeling your absence so acutely. Possibly it is
always wiser to subtract at least half of the impression conveyed in both
written and spoken words. Please understand that I am speaking in
generalities when I say that we are exceedingly apt to exaggerate our own
importance to others, and their importance to us.

"Talking of exaggeration, will you forget our conversation on your last
evening here? I exaggerated my own trouble and its cause. Rather
foolishly I let your remarks influence me, and sought an explanation, or
rather, attempted to ignore appearances, and return to the old footing.
The result being that not only did I find that there was no explanation
to be given, but that I got rather badly snubbed. As you, of course, will
know who administered the snub, you can understand that it was peculiarly
unpleasant. I had endeavoured to igno