For the first time in his knowledge of her some pity for her stirred in him, for the first time in her knowledge of him she definitely looked to him with some appeal. "Roddy came to see me yesterday," she said. "Yes?" said Christopher. "He had not been so often as he used--I told him so; he made some feeble apology, but I can see that he will not come again so often----" He would have interrupted her, but she went on--"He's not happy, but he loves her madly--madly. He did not tell me so, but I could see that. That was something I had never reckoned on." "You prefer," Christopher said sharply, "to imagine that he is not happy. I know, unfortunately, what your feeling is about Rachel. Fond of him though you are you'd prefer that he was unhappy with her." "I know that he is unhappy. He would not care for her so much if she returned it. I know Roddy. But she's clever enough----" She broke off. "If Roddy were to go out to South Africa," she said, "I think I would kill Rachel--then die happy----" "Forgive me," Christopher said, "but this is sheer melodrama. Rachel is devoted to Roddy and Roddy to Rachel. I've the best means for knowing----" Even as he spoke he saw her mouth curve with that smile that was always the wickedest thing about her. He had seen it on many occasions and it always meant that, then, in her heart there was something cruel or remorseless. It gave her now an elfin look so that, amongst the absurd furniture of the room, she took her place as some old witch might take hers amongst the paraphernalia of her incantations--her cauldron, her bones, her noxious herbs. "That shows, Christopher my friend, that you know very little. I've a piece of news that will surprise you." He said nothing, but, in his heart, made ready for some blow. "What would you say if our Rachel--your Rachel and my Rachel--had found a new friend in my worthy, most admirable nephew, Francis?" "Rachel--Rachel and Breton?" The Duchess watched him with amusement. "Exactly. I have the surest information----" "What does your--information--say?" He hated her at that moment as he had never hated her before. "It says--and I know that it is true--that for more than a year now they have been meeting and corresponding--The other day Rachel went to tea with him--alone. Was with him alone for some time--I'm sure that Roddy knows nothing of this----" "It's impossible--impossible! Rachel is the soul of honour----" "I know that you have always thought so. But what more likely? Their feeling about myself would, alone, be enough...." But he would not let her see how hardly he was taking it. He deprived her of her triumph, did not even question her as to what she would do with it, turned the conversation into other channels, and left her at last--seeming there, amongst her candles, with her nose and thin hands, like some old bird of most evil omen. III But for him there was to be no more peace.