"--Your flowers! Oh! yes, I ought to have thanked you for them before--they were lovely, but now they are dead," and she unpinned them carelessly--almost as if she did not like them any longer to touch her--and threw them in the big open grate. "Good-night--and thank you for your kindness," and she was off down the passage and up the side stairs. And when Gerard Strobridge joined the rest of the party in the drawing-room, he had a cigarette between his lips, as though he had been having a smoke, and it required all his polished skill to bring himself back to talking gaily, and to looking what he did not feel, into Mrs. Delemar's sparkling eyes, before they all parted for the night. Meanwhile, Katherine Bush had reached her room and had flung herself into the armchair. This would not do--she must steel herself against giving way to weakness like this. Why had the scent of the violets in another man's coat had power to affect her so that every part of her being cried out for Algy? As though the suppressed emotions of her heart would no longer obey her will--and must proclaim themselves her master! It was shameful feebleness, and she indignantly resented the dominion that love still held over her. She sat there reasoning with herself, but nature reigned stronger than any other thing at the moment, and the memory of her lover obsessed her. She seemed to hear his voice and feel his kisses, until the agony of longing for reality grew unbearable, and she fell forward and lay there on the rug before the fire beating the floor with her hands. It was as the despair of some fierce savage caged animal crying out for its mate. Her whole face altered, the most intense passion blazed from her eyes--and whitened her cheeks. Could Gerard Strobridge have seen her he would indeed have been moved. "Algy! Algy--My darling, my love--Come back to me, I want you. My dear, my dear!--" She sobbed with agony--and then worn out at last--"Oh! God!" she wailed. "Can whatever comes be worth it--after all!" But by the morning she had crushed emotion and came down ready to assist with the huge Christmas tree for the tenants' children, with her usually composed face. But that passion denied should have exacted this anguish frightened her a little. All her will should be used to prevent such madness ever holding sway again. CHAPTER XVI Lady Beatrice remained until the Saturday, greatly to her husband's satisfaction and relief. He had manoeuvred this arrangement with much skill, and Läo's vanity felt satisfied, and indeed gratified, by the belief that the presence of his wife was causing Gerard untold suffering and disappointment! The preliminaries of the game were so very agreeable! and when they could be prolonged by fate so that there was no fear of losing the other participant in them, nothing could be more to her taste.