ted and sneered at him from that hour, all the more
bitterly, because no hatred was a weapon against him, no sneer could do
more than glance from him, leaving no scratch. 'Twas plain enough, the
gossips said, that Sir John's passion for her ladyship of Dunstanwolde
had not been a dead thing when he paid his court to the heiress; if for
a little space he had smothered it from necessity's sake, it had begun
to glow again as soon as he had been left a free man, and when my lady
came to town and Court, surrounded by the halo of rank and wealth and
beauty, the glow had become a flame he could not hide, for 'twas
burning in his eyes and his every look spoke of it as if with
bitterness.

It scarcely seemed a flame of love; 'twas to be seen so often when he
looked fierce and resentful.

"'Tis more than half envy of her," said one wise lady, who had passed
through a long life of varied experiences. "'Tis more hate than love.
His star having set, it galls him that hers so rises. And as for her,
she scarce will deign to see him."

And this was very true, for she had a way of passing him by as if he
did not live. And none but herself knew that sometimes, when he stood
near, he spoke low to her words she disdained to answer. There were
many bitter things she held in mind which were secret from all others
upon earth, she thought, but from himself and her who had been Clo
Wildairs in days gone by, when, as it now seemed to her, she had been
another woman living in another world. There were things she understood
which the world did not, and she understood full well the meaning of
his presence when she, with the ducal party, came face to face with him
at the great ball given in the county town when the guests were
gathered at Camylott.

The night was a festal one for the county, the ball being given in
honour of a great party movement, his Grace and his visitors driving
from Camylott to add to the brilliance of the festivities. The Mayor
and his party received them with ceremony, the smaller gentry, who had
come attired in their richest, gathered in groups gazing, half
admiring, half envious of the more stately splendour of the Court
mantua-makers and jewellers. The officers from the garrison assumed a
martial air of ease as the _cortege_ advanced up the ballroom, and
every man's eyes were drawn towards one tall goddess with a shining
circlet set on raven-black braids of hair coiled high, yet twisted
tight, as if their length and t