de her, and Neergard on the other side."]

What conversation there was to carry, Boots and Nina carried. Austin
silently satisfied his hunger, eating and drinking with a sullen
determination to make no pretence of ignoring a situation that plainly
angered him deeply. And from minute to minute he raised his head to
glare across at Gerald, who evidently was unconscious of the presence of
his own party.

When Nina spoke to Eileen, the girl answered briefly but with perfect
composure. Selwyn, too, added a quiet word at intervals, speaking in a
voice that sounded a little tired and strained.

It was that note of fatigue in his voice which aroused Eileen to
effort--the instinctive move to protect--to sustain him. Conscious of
Austin's suppressed but increasing anger at her brother, amazed and
distressed at what Gerald had done--for the boy's very presence there
was an affront to them all--she was still more sensitive to Selwyn's
voice; and in her heart she responded passionately.

Nina looked up, surprised at the sudden transformation in the girl, who
had turned on Boots with a sudden flow of spirits and the gayest of
challenges; and their laughter and badinage became so genuine and so
persistent that, combining with Nina, they fairly swept Austin from his
surly abstraction into their toils; and Selwyn's subdued laugh, if
forced, sounded pleasantly, now, and his drawn face seemed to relax a
little for the time being.

Once she turned, under cover of the general conversation which she had
set going, and looked straight into Selwyn's eyes, flashing to him a
message of purest loyalty; and his silent gaze in response sent the
colour flying to her cheeks.

It was all very well for a while--a brave, sweet effort; but ears could
not remain deaf to the increasing noise and laughter--to familiar
voices, half-caught phrases, indiscreet even in the fragments
understood. Besides, Gerald had seen them, and the boy's face had become
almost ghastly.

Alixe, unusually flushed, was conducting herself without restraint;
Neergard's snickering laugh grew more significant and persistent; even
Rosamund spoke too loudly at moments; and once she looked around at Nina
and Selwyn while her pretty, accentless laughter, rippling with its
undertone of malice, became more frequent in the increasing tumult.

There was no use in making a pretence of further gaiety. Austin had
begun to scowl again; Nina, with one shocked glance at Alixe, leaned
ove