She pondered over this reply for a moment; then she opened a fresh attack. "Then why should Lord Deerehurst and Mr. Serracauld have smiled when they spoke of his meeting me?" Barnard looked up in unfeigned astonishment; then he laughed. "Upon my word, Mrs. Milbanke," he cried, "you are absolutely unique!" Clodagh flushed. For one second she wavered on the borderland of offence; then her mood--her sense of the ridiculous and the sunny atmosphere of the morning--conquered. She responded with a laugh. "I suppose I'm not like other people," she said. "--For which you should say grace every hour of your life!" Barnard turned and looked into her glowing face. "But I'll satisfy your curiosity. Gore is known in his own set as a man who obstinately--and against all reason--refuses to believe in--well, for instance, in the interesting young married woman." Clodagh's lips parted. "But what----" she began impetuously; then she stopped. Barnard continued to look at her. "Isn't the inference of the smile somewhat obvious?" Her glance fell. "Oh!" she said--"oh! I suppose--I suppose I see." "Precisely." "But surely----" she began afresh; then again intuition interfered, though this time to a different end. It was not the moment--it was not the atmosphere--in which to parade one's sentiments! With the too ready facility of her nation for adapting itself to environment, she laughed suddenly and gaily at her own passing prudery, and raised a bright face to Barnard's. "And when he meets these interesting young married women?" she asked amusedly. "Ah, there he dubs himself 'Sir Galahad'! Some people call him a saint, for keeping his eyes on the ground; others call him a sinner, for not picking up what he sees there. In reality, he is neither sinner nor saint; but just that enviable creation--a man who is self-sufficing." While he spoke, and for some time after he had ceased to speak, Clodagh sat silent. She was leaning over the side of the gondola and looking down into the calm water, her warm face touched by a mischievous expression, her hazel eyes half closed. At last she spoke, but without raising her head. "And you are all waiting for the person who will make him see the need for some one else?" She waited for Barnard's answer, but it did not come. Sensitive to the silence, she raised her head. Then her self-consciousness left her, superseded by curiosity. As she looked up, she saw her companion lean forward and wave a cheerful greeting to the occupant of a gondola approaching them from the direction of the railway station. Involuntarily she changed her position and her glance followed his.