When she got into the hall, for the first time she became conscious of feeling different from usual, strangely weak and giddy and very cold. Afraid of the servant's observing anything amiss, she abandoned her intention of rushing upstairs at once to her own room, and went instead to the drawing-room, where she knew she would find no one. There was no light in the room but that of a large, brightly burning fire. Eugenia drew a low seat close to it, and in a minute or two when the warmth had penetrated a little through her thick dress, she seemed to feel better. Still, however, she was only half restored; she felt that going upstairs would be quite beyond her powers, so she sat still, vaguely relieved that Sydney did not appear with kindly but unendurable expressions of anxiety as to what was wrong. How long she had sat there she did not know, when the door opened quietly and some one came in. Eugenia looked up. It was not Sydney. It was Gerald Thurston! "Oh," thought poor Eugenia, "oh, if only I were up in my own room! Oh, how can I sit and talk to Gerald!" Then, however, there came a slight sensation of relief that it was Gerald and not Frank! She stood up to shake hands as usual when he crossed the room to where she was, but the giddy feeling returned, and she sat down again rather abruptly. "I have been with your father in his study for the last hour," explained Gerald. "He has asked me to stay to dinner and go with him to his lecture at Marny Mills to-night, so you must excuse my clothes." "Oh, certainly," said Eugenia, smiling. "It wants more than half-an-hour to dinner-time still," Gerald went on, speaking faster than usual--the truth being that this tete-a-tete with Eugenia, the first since the memorable evening of his return, was by no means to his taste--"don't let me be in your way. I should not have come into the drawing-room, but your father had some letters to write, and I thought I was in _his_ way. I met Sydney flying upstairs as I came across the hall, and she told me I should find a book and a fire in here." "There are some library books and new magazines over there on that side-table," replied Eugenia, moving her head in the direction she meant. "But you are not in my way," she went on indifferently. "I wasn't doing anything." She shivered perceptibly as she spoke. Then she stooped to reach the poker, and began nervously stirring the fire. Mr Thurston stopped on his way to the side-table. He came back to the fire-place and took the poker out of Eugenia's hands. Even in the instant's contact he felt their icy coldness. "Let me do that for you," he said gently. In her nervousness Eugenia had already done the very thing she would have wished not to do. She had stirred the glowing red into a vivid blaze, which fell full on her face. Something in it must have looked different from usual, for before she could turn away, Gerald spoke.