And now, as she reviewed the incident in the colder light of day--as she turned involuntarily and looked at Gore--she was suddenly mastered by the certain knowledge that, were the circumstance to be repeated, her action would be the same. With a swift movement, she held out her hand. "Walter," she said impulsively, "you are the only person in the world! No one else exists!" It was an hour later, and the outward aspect of Clodagh's drawing-room had been changed. The sunblinds had been drawn up, and a full flood of light allowed to pour in across the table in the window; the _debris_ of leaves and stalks upon the table--and with them Deerehurst's card--had been removed to give place to a tea-tray; while through the room itself rang the gay talk and laughter of people who have enjoyed a genuinely pleasant meal. The tea had been disposed of some little time ago; but Nance still lingered beside the tea-table; and at her side stood Gore and a young man of five-and-twenty, with a tall, slight figure, a pale face, and intensely shrewd and penetrating eyes. Clodagh, still wearing her riding habit, sat in the centre of the room in radiantly high spirits, talking animatedly to a distinguished-looking woman with beautiful white hair, and to a slim, graceful girl of about Nance's age, who sat one on either side of her. "Isn't it unkind of Mrs. Estcoit, Pierce?" she said, suddenly turning towards the tea-table. "She says you must go!" Estcoit laughed--and when he laughed a very agreeable gleam of humour showed in his shrewd eyes. "But it takes my mother ten minutes to go from anywhere," he said. "Ask Nance if it doesn't!" Clodagh laughed gaily. "Good! Then I can ask ten more questions about Boston. Mrs. Estcoit, please tell me----" But she paused before her sentence was finished. For the handle of the door had turned; and, looking up quickly, she saw the tall figure of Deerehurst. Had any member of the party looked at her in that moment, he or she would have seen a wave of colour sweep across her face, then die out, leaving her almost white. But beyond this, she betrayed no emotion; and, a moment later, when Deerehurst came towards her across the room with his habitual slow, silent step, she raised her head, smiling a conventional welcome, and held out her hand. He took it silently, and with a slightly ostentatious impressiveness. "A thousand apologies if I intrude on a social gathering," he murmured. "But on returning home, I chanced upon the book we were discussing to-day, and remembering how interested you were----" With a very quiet movement he laid a small and costly little book of verses on the arm of Clodagh's chair, and turned with his usual dignity to where Nance was standing. "How d'you do, Miss Asshlin! Is it too late to beg for a cup of tea?" Nance held out her hand. "I'm afraid 'twill be rather cold," she said a little ungraciously. "But if you don't mind that, will you please ring the bell? We shall want another cup."