They did so, Gilbert dismounting at the lodge, and leading his horse. The short winter day was closing in, gray and cold, as they went up the avenue. ‘How did you enjoy the dance?’ he asked. ‘Not much. I never do. Did you?’ ‘I always enjoy watching other people’s little games.’ She gave a short laugh. ‘Do you mean mine?’ ‘Yours—nay. How can you have any?’ ‘Just what I was going to say. I mean, if you were looking for what you call “games” with me, your trouble must have been wasted, that’s all.’ ‘Of course. No; I meant all the other girls, and their mothers, and the men, too, for that matter.’ She laughed again, shortly and contemptuously. ‘And Otho Askam,’ he pursued tranquilly. Magdalen looked up. ‘What? Has he got plans, or “games,” as you call them?’ ‘I was amused to see his devotion to you last night, and what a rage those women were in about it. His game is to avoid all the girls whom he might possibly be supposed to be desirous of marrying. He told me so. He is mortally afraid of being trapped. And of course, he is even more afraid of the mothers than of the girls. You are quite harmless, you see. You are promised to Michael. He feels so safe and happy with you.’ ‘Poor, innocent lamb!’ ‘Isn’t he? It shows how blindly he trusts in your probity, and in your devotion to Michael. He comes to Balder Hall sometimes, doesn’t he?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘He never asks me to go with him.’ ‘No?’ ‘It is so amusing, I think. What does Michael say to it?’ ‘Michael—oh, he laughs, and says it is very good of me to let him come, and that it is a good sign for Mr. Askam’s future career that he frequents any decent society at all,’ she said, with a short, dry laugh, of which Gilbert’s answering one seemed an echo, so much were they alike in tone. ‘How beautiful of him! When you are married to him, Magdalen,’ he added, speaking very slowly, and openly watching her face—‘when you are married to Michael, and fairly established as Mrs. Langstroth, for which consummation you have waited so faithfully and so patiently,’—he dwelt upon all his words—‘I should say that then Michael would find it rather a bore to have Otho Askam coming in, and you would, too. Don’t you think so?’ ‘How can I tell? I should say that Otho Askam would find it a bore himself, when I am married to Michael, if ever I should be. As you say, I have waited a long time, and I may have a longer one yet to wait, before I am Michael’s wife.’ She spoke with a dead monotony of tone, and a no less monotonous expression in her face. They stood now in front of the house. Magdalen beckoned to a gardener’s boy, and told him to send a groom for Gilbert’s horse, after which they went into the house, into Magdalen’s sitting-room, and she cast off her fur cloak, and began to make tea, with the firelight shining on her crimson gown. Gilbert sat in a low chair and watched her, but said nothing. Only when she handed him his cup of tea, he said softly—