Indeed, as I sat opposite the two girls at dinner, I watched the actions of both furtively behind the great silver epergne of roses and ferns, and although they chatted merrily, laughing and joking with their male companions, I nevertheless fancied that I could detect a slight expression of concealed annoyance--or was it of hatred?--upon Eva's face whenever Mary addressed her. Ever so slight, merely the quivering or slight contraction of the eyebrows, it passed unnoticed by the merry party, yet with my eyes on the alert for any sign it was to me a proof sufficient that the theory I had formed was correct, and that the woman I loved went in deadly fear of Mary Blain. If this were really so, did it not add additional colour to the other vague theories that had been aroused in my mind through various inexplicable circumstances? Did it not, indeed, point to the fact that upon Eva, although she might have been a victim of that bewildering tragedy in Phillimore Place, there rested a terrible guilt? I recollected how she had gone to St. James's Park to keep the appointment which the unknown assassin's accomplice had made, and the remarkable allegation of old Lowry, the herbalist--two facts which, viewed in the light of other discoveries, were circumstances in themselves sufficient evidence of her guilt. Besides, had she not, with her own lips, told me that one day ere long I should hate her very name, and thank her for refusing to accept my love? Was not this sufficient proof of the correctness of my theory? As evening wore on and darkness deepened into night, the strings of Chinese lanterns at the bottom of the lawn were lit, imparting to the place a very gay, almost fairylike, aspect. There were many remarks regarding the non-appearance of Lady Glaslyn. Mrs. Blain seemed extremely anxious, yet Eva betrayed no anxiety, merely saying-- "She may have felt unwell and returned. I shall no doubt find her at home with one of her bad headaches." Thus all were reassured. Nevertheless, the incident struck me as curious, for Eva's calm unconcern showed that her mother must be a woman of somewhat eccentric habits. Simpson drove us both to Shepperton Station in the motor-car, and we caught the ten-thirty train, from which she alighted at Hampton while I continued my journey up to Waterloo. During the fifteen minutes or so we were alone together in the train our conversation was mainly of our fellow-visitors. Of a sudden I asked-- "Have you seen Mr. Langdale lately?" "Yes. I often see him. He lives quite near us," she answered frankly. "You told me this afternoon, Eva, that you were not engaged. Are you confident there is not likely to be a match between you?" "A match between us!" she exclaimed with an expression of surprise. "What, are you joking, or do you actually suspect that I love him?" "I have thought so."