While I changed I reflected pleasantly upon what I would say to Astarte. It was evident that she had told Lady Bulstrode little or nothing about her holiday; and I was glad to feel that the whole of those delicious three days was still a secret between us. One thing I was determined about, and that was that, if she was under any misapprehension as to my feelings towards her, it should be swiftly and effectively removed. On the island I had been handicapped, for any departure from the jolly fiction that we were just casual pals would have spoilt everything. Here, however, there was no such barrier. We were meeting on level terms, and it would not be my fault if Astarte remained in any doubt as to how much I loved her. I went downstairs feeling what a journalist would call "agreeably elated." Dinner passed off in a very cheerful fashion. Even the most sombre person would find it difficult to be dull with dear old Lady Bulstrode, and sombreness was not a vice from which any of us suffered acutely. Astarte, who had quite recovered her usual self-possession, talked away with all her customary good spirits and humour. She told us about her afternoon's adventures with the children--two little girls of five and seven, to whom she seemed devoted--and discussed and described the coming house-party, most of whom had apparently been there the previous year. Like Lady Bulstrode, she seemed to entertain a high opinion of the beauty and charms of Miss Faversham and Miss McCulloch. I kept up my end with a few picturesque details about the ends of the earth which I still had left over from our conversations on the island; and Mrs. Fawcett, a charming old white-haired lady, with a peculiarly sweet smile, gave us some delicious reminiscences of the late Queen Victoria at Balmoral, near which historic spot she herself resided. Afterwards we all adjourned to the big, rambling, book-lined apartment which served a kind of triple function as a library, a billiard-room, and a smoking lounge. Here, with the stimulus of coffee and cigarettes, we continued to talk until about half-past nine, when Lady Bulstrode got up from her chair. "I am going to bed, Guy," she said. "These good people are sure to keep me up to the most scandalous hours all next week, and I mean to get some beauty sleep while I have the chance. I am growing too old for prolonged dissipation." "So am I, Mary," chimed in Mrs. Fawcett. "I shall come with you." "I don't want to drag you off, Grace, unless you're sleepy," went on Lady Bulstrode, turning to Astarte. "Perhaps you'll stop and play Guy a game of billiards." "Yes, please do, Miss Conway," I said. "It's against my principles to turn in before ten, and I shall be frightfully lonely if you desert me too." "Very well," said Astarte quietly; "but I expect you're too strong for me." Lady Bulstrode accepted the candle I offered her.