ess acute, their error was a grave one. Beneath the majesty
of her Ladyship of Dunstanwolde lay all the fire and flaming spirit,
the swiftness to deduce and act, which had set Clo Wildairs apart from
lesser women. So it was that she had not been three hours at Camylott
before she knew that, with regard to herself, my Lord Duke of Osmonde
had made some strong resolve. No other than herself could have
detected, she knew, but on her first glance at his face she beheld it
written there. There are human beings, it is sure, whose natures are so
attuned that the thoughts, the griefs, the passions of each are
reflected upon the brain of the other; and 'twas thus with these two
whom life thrust so far apart from one another and yet forced so near.
At their first meeting on the threshold and in the midst of his warm
and gracious welcome she read what none other could read, and felt a
pang which yet was gladness. 'Twas better so--her strength should aid
his own, his greatness should support her. There was no question in
her mind, no argument, only a sudden recognition of the truth that up
to this time she had scarcely allowed herself mere thought in
connection with him, that--after the first hour--when thought had risen
she had thrust it back, forbidden its being, denied its presence.

"Thought will not help," she had said once, when, as she had sate
alone, she had felt hot, passionate tears start to her eyes, and she
had flung down her book, risen from her chair, and left the room ten
minutes later, riding forth from the court followed by her groom and
making for the country roads.

From the earliest days of her marriage she had herself avoided often
meeting his gaze. Glances would not help either, but would do harm and
betray--between those who are drawn together as by some force of
Nature, glances are mad things. They may begin calmly, they may swear
that they will so continue, but looks entangle one day and catch fire,
and, once alight, the flame cannot extinguish itself, even when it
would.

At Camylott each was gracious to the other, he gracious host, she
gracious guest and kinswoman, and those who looked on praised each one
and honoured, speaking often of their charm and courtly friendliness,
which indeed made them seem almost like brother and sister.

"They are a strange pair, those two fine creatures," said the old
Dowager Storms one day to her favourite crony, an elderly matron to
whom she could safely talk gossip. "