On the following morning, however, his curiosity was appeased in an unexpected and startling manner. As soon as he appeared at the breakfast-table, he was conscious of a decided change for the worse in the already chilly and depressing atmosphere. If Lady Florencecourt had been cool, her husband constrained, the day before, the lady was an icicle, her lord a statue this morning. Lord Florencecourt avoided him, would not meet his eyes, and absolutely--so it seemed to George--slunk out of the way of Nouna altogether; while his wife maintained all through breakfast such a frigid attitude to both the young couple, that George was boiling with indignation before the meal was ended, and contrived to meet his hostess alone within a few minutes of the break-up of the party. He had some difficulty in keeping the anger he felt from bursting through the formal speeches in which he told her of an unexpected summons which would force him and his wife to curtail their visit and return to town that very morning. “As soon as you please, Mr. Lauriston,” said Lady Florencecourt, icily. “And as I may not have another opportunity of seeing your wife alone, perhaps you will be kind enough to return this to her”--she handed George a small parcel, through a torn corner of which peeped the pearls he supposed Nouna to have lost--“and to inform her that though, like other ladies, I am forced to submit to be robbed by my husband to deck out another woman, I am not reduced to receiving back my own jewels from her hands when she has done with them.” George looked at her very steadily, and gave no sign of the tempest within him except the trembling of his hands. “I will give this packet, not to my wife, but to your husband, madam,” said he in a very low voice. At that moment Lord Florencecourt’s footsteps were heard outside the door, and George added: “I shall not have to wait for an opportunity.” Upon the first sound of her husband’s tread, the lady had visibly quailed, in spite of her Amazonian reputation: as he entered the room, and with a searching glance seemed to take in at once the chief features of the situation, she made an attempt to walk majestically to the door. “Stop,” said he, raising his hand a very little way; “I want to speak to you. Mr. Lauriston,” he went on, turning formally to the young man, who noticed that his nervousness of the morning had given place to a look of steady determination, “if my wife has had the folly and bad taste to insult you, I apologise for her, and beg that you will take no steps consequent upon her impertinence until you have first had an interview with me.” “I shall be glad to have that interview as soon as possible, Lord Florencecourt, as I must leave your house this morning.”