“I won’t distress you by arguing in the old way again,” he said. “But I can’t take your advice about going back to town immediately, though I know your counsel is good. I want to see it out.” “To see what out?” Miss Davison’s eyes were attracted too, by this time, in the direction of the old lady and Delia. Gerard hesitated. “Well, shall we say the sequel to last Sunday’s scene?” At that Miss Davison remained quite silent for some moments, with her eyes cast down, and her hands lying immovable in her lap. “I don’t understand,” she said at last. He had no time to explain before Mrs. Van Santen, rising from her chair, crossed the room, taking such a course that she came quite close to the two young people. Gerard therefore, did not speak until he had watched the old lady go into the card-room, where he saw her standing close to Denver, without being able to hear whether she spoke to him. In the meantime Delia came strolling across to the window, and rearranged a curtain which had been pulled away from its proper folds by a chair placed near it. It was out of the question, therefore, for Gerard to give Miss Davison any explanation of his rather momentous words while members of the Van Santen family were flitting about so close to them. And before Delia had moved away, Denver Van Santen, quitting the card-table, came up, and unceremoniously drawing a chair close to Miss Davison, leaned forward and looked sentimentally into her face. “Guess I’m not going to let that fellow have you all to himself this evening, Miss Davison,” said he. And, as Rachel received this speech with an encouraging smile, instead of snubbing the fellow, as he felt that she ought to do, Gerard had nothing to do but to withdraw and leave the Yankee in full and undisputed possession of the field. CHAPTER XXII Now although it had seemed to Gerard, when he first arrived at the Priory that afternoon, that all was as usual there, he had long before this discovered that this was by no means the case. Everything did indeed look as it had looked on his previous visits. The visitors were quite as numerous, the conversation was quite as lively. The groups moved about from room to room, listened to the music at one end of the suite, played cards at the other, and drank tea between the two, with just the same appearance of having nothing on their minds but the amusement of the moment. The Van Santens, on their side, behaved exactly as they had always behaved; the young men played bridge and poker, with intervals of conversation and laughter with those of their guests who did not care for cards. Cora sang as sweetly as ever, was just as charming when, instead of singing or playing, she was listening to Arthur’s impassioned speeches, or lisping out her little crisp sentences by way of her share in the general conversation.