"No," he said; "they wouldn't look well there." CHAPTER TWENTY NINE. THE PARTY BREAKS UP. "Dinner over, of course, Preenham?" "Oh, dear, yes, sir," said that worthy, taking Artis's hat and cane. "Carriage was ordered for half-past seven, and they've gone to the theatre, sir." "Gone where?" "Theatre, sir--Haymarket, sir." "Why, Preenham--" "It was Mr Girtle, sir, proposed it. Said it would be a pleasant change for everybody. The carriage was ordered, and dinner an hour sooner." "The sky will fall next," said Artis, with a sneering laugh. "Bring me some coffee in the library, and--no, some brandy and soda and the cigars." "Yes, sir. Miss D'Enghien's in the drawing-room, sir. Had a bad headache, and didn't go." "Why didn't you say that at first?" cried Artis; and he went up two stairs at a time, to find Katrine in the act of throwing herself into a chair, and looking flushed and hot. "You here?" she said, wearily. "My darling!" he cried. "If I had only known. At last!" He threw himself at her feet, clasped her waist, and drew her half resisting towards him, while before a minute had elapsed, her arms were resting upon his shoulders, and her eyes were half closed in a dreamy ecstasy, as she yielded to the kisses that covered her face. Suddenly, with a quick motion, she threw him off. "Quick--some one," she whispered. Her ears were sharper than his, and she had heard the dull rattle of the door handle. "I don't know what to take," she said, in a weary voice; "I suppose it will not be better before morning." "I have taken the brandy and soda into the library, sir," said Preenham. "Would you like it brought up here?" "To be sure," he cried. "The very thing for your headache. Bring it up, Preenham." "You madman!" cried Katrine, angrily. "You take advantage of my weakness for you. Another moment, and we should have been discovered. No, no; keep away." "Miss is as good as a mile." "You grow more reckless, every day. We must be careful." "Careful! I'm sick of being careful." "Hush!" The butler entered with a tray and the brandy and soda. "Open it, sir?" "Yes. Two. Now try that. Best thing in the world for a bad head." The old butler withdrew as softly as he had come in, and Katrine took two or three sips from her glass, while Artis tossed his off, and then, setting it down, walked quickly to the door. Katrine's eyes dilated, and, bending forward, she listened, and then sprang up and glided quickly across from the inner room to meet Artis half-way, and be clasped in his arms. "What have you done?" she cried. "Nothing." "You have fastened the door." "Nonsense." "I say you have!" "Well, suppose I have. What then?" "You madman! Unfasten the door." "Not I." "I tell you that you are mad," she cried, trying to free herself. "Gerard, dear Gerard, be reasonable." She writhed herself free and ran and turned the bolt back. He followed to refasten it, but she held him.