It was then that a sudden vision of the rose-garden at the Priory flashed upon her mental sight. Once more she saw Philippa in her husband’s arms. History, she reflected, with an impulse to break into dreadful laughter--history had repeated itself, with a slight difference. How ludicrous, how futile, how _awful_, life was with its senseless blending of the grotesque and tragic; materials for a heartrending farce, to be played before what monstrous spectators! She stood in the middle of the room, her hands clenched and clasped tightly to her breast, in an agonized struggle with her laughter and her tears. Had she really heard the hall bell or not? The question, a vital one, as for some reason it seemed to her, was answered a moment later, when the door opened, and the maid announced, “Lady Ashford and Miss Devereux.” They came in smiling, suave, unconscious, with outstretched hands. Cecily, smiling also, went forward with composure to receive her guests. CHAPTER XXII After wandering for two or three months abroad, Cecily and Diana discovered that all roads lead to Rome. In Rome, therefore, they had been established for a week, when Cecily strolled one day alone, towards the garden of the Villa Medici. It was Rose Summers, with whom, after the night of the dinner-party, Cecily had spent some weeks, who had urged upon Cecily this plan of travel. For some time previous to the break between Cecily and her husband, Diana had not been strong; she was made the excuse for the closing of the Westminster flat in the following autumn. Rose arranged the explanation. For the sake of her sister’s health, Cecily must at once take her abroad, while her husband, who, for business reasons connected with his work, could not go so far afield, had decided to divide the period of her absence between the country and a stay in Paris. It was thus that Mrs. Summers strove to put a screen between an inquisitive public and the ruins of one more domestic hearth. “They’ll talk, of course,” she observed, “and try to look through the chinks in the boarding; but as long as they don’t see too plainly, their talk doesn’t matter much.” Cecily had acquiesced indifferently. “Just as you please,” she said. “All I want is to get away--and I shall not come back. But I quite agree that there’s no need to provide entertainment for literary tea-parties by saying so.” “All I ask,” returned Rose, “is that you shall give yourself time; that you shall take no irrevocable step.” To which Cecily had responded by a smile and a shrug of the shoulders.