"I am angry because our game was spoiled. I was making a really excellent break, when we were interrupted by a stupid telegram from Walter Gore." Almost abruptly, Clodagh turned back to the open window, conscious that her face and ears were suddenly burning and that her heart had given a great unsteady throb. Lady Diana looked quickly from her sister to her husband. "From Walter?" she said in surprise. "Yes, from Walter." George Tuffnell came forward with an open telegram in his hand. "Listen to this! 'Back from Russia. Town insufferably hot. Gore Bridges in tradesmen's hands. No plans for immediate week. Can you put me up from to-morrow?--WALTER GORE.' Luck, isn't it! Why, we haven't seen him for a year. Dear old Walter!" Tuffnell's good-natured face beamed with hospitable enthusiasm. "What do you say, Di?" he added. "Of course we can manage it?" "Of course! Why, it will make our party complete." Lady Diana glanced at her sister. But, to her surprise, there was no response in Lady Frances's expression. With a movement of sudden decision, she had stepped forward. "Di, wait a moment!" she said. "You know Walter and Val Serracauld never hit it off--and Walter and Deerehurst detest each other. Do you think it would be wise?" Lady Diana looked perplexed. "It is a little difficult," she said. "But we cannot refuse Walter." She looked at her husband. George Tuffnell responded with a laugh. "Refuse Walter! Why, I'd as soon refuse to have the boys home for the holidays! The house is big enough for everybody! What do you say, Mrs. Milbanke?" Clodagh turned from the open window. From being red, her face was now very pale. "I," she stammered--"I----" Again Tuffnell laughed good-naturedly. "Certainly! Don't you think, Di, that Mrs. Milbanke could give us an expert opinion on the management of man?" Clodagh laughed unsteadily. Then, all at once, her mental balance was shaken by a wave of feeling. The thought of Gore--the remembrance of Gore--rose like tangible things, blotting out all else. She lifted her eyes to her host's. "I agree with you," she swiftly said. "I should say that--that the house is big enough." CHAPTER VII The remaining hours of that night passed like a dream for Clodagh. Condemn herself as she might for the weakness, there was no subduing the tumultuous excitement kindled by the thought that she was to see Gore again. It was not to be denied that time, intervening incidents, and a sub-conscious personal desire had blunted the first resentment that Lady Frances Hope's disclosures had engendered. In the reckless pursuit of excitement that had marked the past three months, she had imagined him banished from her mind; but now, at the knowledge of his promised advent, she realised that it had only been an imagination; that, despite everything, his place in her mind had never been usurped.