Lord Deerehurst came first, moving with a certain stiff dignity, and appropriated the seat by her side; Barnard and Serracauld followed, placing themselves on the two smaller seats that flank the stern; and a moment later, she saw the gondoliers swing lithely round into their allotted positions, and felt the gondola shoot out swiftly and silently into the dark waters. Following the custom of the place, they headed for the point where the idle and the pleasure-seeking of Venice gather nightly to listen to the music, and lazily watch the swaying paper lanterns of the musician's gondolas. Clodagh sat silent as they skimmed onward. She was bending slightly forward, her whole attitude an unconscious typifying of expectancy; her hands were lightly clasped in her lap, and again the hazel of her eyes was darkened by their dilated pupils. As the gondola slackened speed and the music became nearer, more distinct, Lord Deerehurst, who had been covertly studying her, leant suddenly close to her. "You are a great appreciator of the beautiful, Mrs. Milbanke!" he said in his thin, high-bred voice. Clodagh started; and, glancing from one to the other of the three men, laughed shyly. "Why do you say that?" she asked. "Because I have presumed to watch your face." She blushed; and Barnard, feeling rather than seeing her embarrassment, made haste to reassure her. "Mrs. Milbanke is an adept in the appreciation of beauty," he said with a laugh. "She was brought up on the study of it." Again Clodagh coloured, and again she gave a shy laugh. "If you say that, Mr. Barnard," she said, "I shall accuse you of being a fellow-countryman. I am Irish, you know." She turned and looked up at Deerehurst. The old peer again bent forward interestedly. "Indeed!" he exclaimed. "Then we have a bond of sympathy. Some of my best friends come from Ireland." His voice was high and possessed no fulness, but he had the same courteously ingratiating manner that belonged to his nephew; while a larger acquaintance with the world had taught him an adaptability to circumstances--and persons--that Serracauld had not troubled to acquire. As he spoke now, he brought a tone of deference and friendliness into his words that touched Clodagh to a feeling of companionship. "Then you know Ireland?" she said quickly. "Very well indeed." Her expression softened. "When were you there last?" she asked in a low voice. "Last autumn. I was staying at Arranmore with----" "--With Lord Muskeere. I know--I know. Why, you were in our county. My father often and often stayed at Arranmore before----" She checked herself hastily. "Oh, long ago, before--before I was born," she added a little awkwardly. "It was from a stream that runs near there that he took my name--Clodagh." "Indeed! What a charming idea!" Deerehurst raised his gold-rimmed eyeglass, and peered at her through the dusk. At the same moment, Serracauld leaned forward in his seat.