And next, before Maud had at all recovered her equanimity, a turn in the road brought them face to face with all the Government House party--ladies and ponies and aides-de-camp in attendance, and, last of all, the Viceroy himself, with a big stick and wide-awake hat. 'Ah! how d'ye do, Mrs. Sutton?' he said, looking, Maud fancied, not near so good-humoured as of old and taking no notice of Desvoeux; 'I hope you have good accounts of your husband?' 'Yes, very good, thank you, Lord Clare,' Maud said, blushing at a question which seemed to convey a reproach to her guilty conscience, and at the thought of how little her husband had been present to her mind of late. Altogether, Maud's attempt at a solitary ride turned out a thorough failure. Then came the picnic, and Maud, it must be confessed, behaved like a little idiot. 'The best way to treat gossip,' Desvoeux suggested, 'is to ignore it and show the world that you have nothing to be ashamed of.' By way of enforcing his doctrine he proceeded to monopolise her in the most outrageous manner; nor did she refuse to be monopolised. When other people came and tried to talk to her Desvoeux stood by and contrived to make them feel themselves _de trop_. He put poor Boldero, who flattered himself that his afternoon's sermon was to bear good fruit, utterly to the rout; insulted General Beau by some absurd question about the Carraway Islands; put all the aides-de-camp to flight; and, even when the Viceroy came by and stopped to speak to Maud, seemed to consider it a very great intrusion. 'Really, Mr. Desvoeux,' Maud said, with a laugh, 'you give yourself all the airs of a jealous husband.' 'I only wish,' said her companion, 'you had ever given me the chance of being one. But don't these people bore one? I don't feel a bit inclined to-day to be bored.' 'No more do I,' said Maud, 'but I feel very cross with you all the same. Let us go and sit by the Fotheringhams.' 'Please do not,' said Desvoeux; 'here is a delightful nook, with a smooth stone for your table, and the stream making too much noise for any one to overhear us. It was evidently intended for you and me.' So all the world had the opportunity, at lunch, of witnessing Desvoeux in the act of adoration; and Desvoeux, if he would let no one else have a chance of talking, had, Maud felt, plenty to say himself. It was indiscreet, but very pleasant. Even Mrs. Vereker grew alarmed, and making an excuse to pass close by them, came and whispered in Maud's ear a solemn 'Don't!' 'Don't what?' said Maud in ill-affected wonderment. 'Don't be a goose,' said her companion; 'Mr. Desvoeux, would you be good-natured and go and fetch me some ice-pudding, while I sit and talk to Mrs. Sutton?' 'With pleasure,' said Desvoeux, smothering his resentment as best he could; 'but where am I to sit when I come back?' 'You need not come back for half-an-hour,' said Mrs. Vereker quietly; 'go and talk with some one else. I see I must keep you young people both in order.'