'Because in the dawn of that morning when--when he died, I dreamt of him, and he showed me the ring you have brought--the gipsy ring I gave him, broken in two, as it now is.' 'The tiger's teeth did that.' 'It is true,' said Clare. 'She was sleeping with me, and started up in tears and agitation to tell me of her dream and of the ring.' Trevor Chute's mind went back to that time when the pale face of the dead man looked so sad in the half-darkened bungalow, while the drums beat merrily in the square without; the last words of Beverley came back to him, and could it be, as he had often said, that he and Ida were indeed _en rapport_, and had a spiritual and unseen link between them? It began to seem so now. Then, fearing that his visit was somewhat protracted, he rose, yet lingeringly, to go. 'Dear Captain Chute--Trevor we all called you once,' said Ida, taking his hand in both of hers, while Clare drew a little way back, 'you will call again and see us?' 'It is better that I should not,' replied Chute, in a voice that became agitated in spite of himself; 'you know all the circumstances, Ida, under which we parted,' he added, in a lower voice. 'You will surely come again and see _me_?' she urged. 'If the family were out of town,' Chute was beginning. 'Trevor,' said the widow, passionately, 'love me as if--as if I were your sister; for you were more than a friend--yes, a very brother--to my poor Beverley, and I must be as your sister.' Clare's eyes met those of Chute for an instant, and then were dropped on the carpet; but she did not blush, as another might have done, at all this speech implied or suggested, for her face grew very pale, and then, feeling the dire necessity of saying something, she muttered, falteringly: 'You will surely call and see papa, after--after----' 'What, Miss Collingwood?' 'Your long absence from this country.' 'It has seemed somewhat of an eternity to me.' She trembled as he added, in a gentle, yet cold manner: 'Excuse me, but it were better to pay my first visit to him at his club.' Chute, who had been all tenderness to Ida, could not help this manner to Clare, for Violet's remarks about Desmond seemed to corroborate those of Vane. Unstable of purpose, he held Clare's hand, and she permitted him to do so, with a slow, regretful clasp. Why should he not do so, and why should she withdraw her slender fingers? As he descended the staircase, he heard the name of the Honourable Harvey Desmond announced with his card, and the rivals passed each other in the marble vestibule, the former with the easy air of a daily, at least a frequent, visitor; the other with that of one whose mission was over. 'On what terms are he and Clare if the clubs link their names together?' thought Trevor, bitterly and sadly, as he came forth. Did she, after all, love himself still? He was almost inclined to flatter himself that she did so.