Now he had left the manor gates behind, and striking out across the lawn, increased his pace, for his impatience would not be curbed. The crunching sound of wheels on the gravel brought him to a standstill. On his right a clump of cedars hid the road from sight. He thrust aside the low-growing branches, and as he peered through the aperture a carriage flashed by. Jean was driving, and he had a tantalizing glimpse of her bonny face, as she turned to speak to Eleanor and Cliff, who were on the back seat. An involuntary exclamation escaped him, and he sprang forward, but his voice was unheard, his presence unheeded, and with a heavy heart he gazed after the rapidly retreating vehicle. With a savage little laugh he swung about, and retraced his steps. The joyousness of the summer day was darkened for him, and in his heart was a fierce resentment against Fate. His eyes were bent upon the ground as he plodded slowly along the road, and so he did not see Miss Stuart, driving alone in Helen's buckboard, until she was within a few yards of him. Miss Stuart scanned his face furtively as he stood beside the carriage. "Ah, Val," she said with an assumption of ease, "I suppose you have been at the manor?" "No, I met them driving." "How inhospitable of them not to have turned back," she exclaimed, with her eyes still on his face. Farr was too obtuse to appreciate the drift of her remark. "I was unfortunate. They did not see me." Miss Stuart's brows contracted in a frown, and she flicked the long lash of her whip. "You are not flattering, Val. I was at home." He looked up at her quickly, a vague surprise in his eyes. "I would not venture to inflict myself on you!" he replied with a careless laugh, and then he stood back a step, and raised his hat. Miss Stuart's face flushed angrily, but she had no alternative but to drive on. As she gathered up the reins she shot a glance over her shoulder at Farr, but already he had turned away, and was moving rapidly down the road. She cut the horse with the whip, and in her heart was a burning desire to revenge herself on Jean. As they took their places about the dinner-table at the manor that evening, Nathalie made some casual mention of the _Vortex_, thus giving Miss Stuart the pretext she sought. "By the way," she said, fixing her eyes on Jean's face, although her words were addressed to Helen, "on my way home this afternoon after I left you, I met Mr. Farr and had such a pleasant chat with him. He was on his way to call on us, but as he met me, I suppose----" She broke off with a charming air of embarrassment. Jean raised her head proudly, and met Miss Stuart's gaze with unflinching eyes. "You should have brought Mr. Farr back to tea," she said, so unconcernedly that even Helen was deceived, and Miss Stuart was stirred with a passing feeling of admiration. But the effort cost Jean a pang, and as she turned her eyes slowly away, there was a great coldness at her heart.