"Surely you are not so unfashionable as to disapprove of gambling, Mrs. Milbanke?" he asked. Clodagh raised her eyes; and this time her glance was free from coquetry. "I have not been fashionably brought up," she said. "Indeed!" The surprise--and, with it, a reluctant interest--deepened in Gore's glance. But his eyes wandered doubtfully over her dress. Invariably quick to follow a train of thought, she gave a short, comprehending laugh. "Oh, I know what you are thinking of!" she cried. "I don't look as if I belong to the wilds. People never understand that dressing is a knack that comes to women, and does not really mean anything." He smiled, amused against his will. Again she laughed, like a child who has been praised. "Oh, it's quite true!" she added. "I could tell you of dozens of cases----" But her flow of confidence was suddenly terminated. Valentine Serracauld, catching sight of her through the throng of people, had made a hasty way towards her. His finely cut colourless face was animated and his dark grey eyes looked excited. "How d'you do?--how d'you do, Mrs. Milbanke?" he exclaimed. "Please congratulate me! I've had a run of luck! Netted seventy pounds!" Clodagh's lips parted. "Seventy pounds!" she said breathlessly, and instinctively she turned to Gore. But Gore's place was empty. At Serracauld's approach, he had moved unostentatiously away. At the knowledge that he was gone, a sense of disappointment fell upon her. She glanced uncertainly at Deerehurst. The old peer, who had been a cynical observer of the little scene, gave a thin laugh. "Our friend Gore is fearful of contamination," he said, glancing at his nephew. Serracauld laughed. "Gore!" he said contemptuously. "Oh, Gore and I never did chum up! But where have you been hiding yourself all day?" He turned again to Clodagh. "We have had dark suspicions that old Barny has been buying up your society with Stock Exchange tips. Come, now, confess!" He paused and laughed, looking with intent admiration into her expressive face. And Clodagh--sailing upon the tide of present things, elated by the eager interest of two men, and excited by the grudging interest of a third--forgot that, for every frail craft such as hers, there is an ultimate harbour to be gained, a future to be reckoned with. She lifted her head, met Serracauld's searching glance, and echoed his inconsequent laugh. CHAPTER X The next day Clodagh made one of a party to the Lido, and the same night accompanied Lady Frances Hope, Deerehurst, and Serracauld to a theatre; but on neither occasion did she meet, or even see, Sir Walter Gore. On the afternoon of the second day, however, he again appeared upon the scene of her interests, and in an unexpected manner. The hour was six; and she, with Barnard and Milbanke, was seated on the hotel terrace, chatting desultorily in the warmth of the early evening.