"I said I would walk," she reminded him, smiling. Then she gave him her hand. It was still gloveless and he took it in his, turning the palm upward so that he might bury his lips in its delicately perfumed depths. His kiss almost scalded her flesh, his lips were burning hot. Passion held in check will consume with inward fire, whilst its expression often cools like the Nereid's embrace. He went to the door with her and watched her slender, trim figure walking rapidly away until it disappeared round the corner of the Square. When he turned back into the hall, he found himself face to face with Lord Radclyffe. Not Uncle Rad--but an altogether different man, an old man now with the cynical lines round the mouth accentuated and deepened into furrows, the eyes hollow and colourless, the shoulders bent as if under an unbearable load. "Uncle Rad," said Luke speaking very gently, forcing his voice to betray nothing of anxiety or surprise, "can I do anything for you?" But even at sight of his nephew, of the man who had hitherto always succeeded in dissipating by his very presence every cloud on the misanthrope's brow, even at sight of him Lord Radclyffe seemed to shrink within himself, his face became almost ashen in its pallor, and lines of cruel hardness quite disfigured his mouth. "I want to be alone to-day," he said dryly. "Tell them to send me up some tea in the afternoon. I'll go to my room now--I shan't want any dinner." "But, sir, won't you----?" "I want to be alone to-day," the old man reiterated tonelessly, "and to be left alone." "Very well, sir." Lord Radclyffe walked slowly toward the staircase. Luke--his heart torn with anxiety and sorrow--saw how heavy was the old man's step, how listless his movements. The younger man's instinct drew him instantly to the side of the elder. He placed an affectionate hand on his uncle's shoulder. "Uncle Rad," he said appealingly, "can't I do anything for you?" Lord Radclyffe turned and for a moment his eyes softened as they rested on the face he loved so well. His wrinkled hand sought the firm, young one which lingered on his shoulder. But he did not take it, only put it gently aside, then said quietly: "No, my boy, there's nothing you can do, except to leave me alone." Then he went up stairs and shut himself up in his own room, and Luke saw him no more that day. CHAPTER IX WHICH TELLS OF THE INEVITABLE RESULT And now a month and more had gone by, and the whole aspect of the world and of life was changed for Luke. Not for Louisa, because she, woman-like, had her life in love and love alone. Love was unchanged, or if changed at all it was ennobled, revivified, purified by the halo of sorrow and of abnegation which glorified it with its radiance. For Luke the world had indeed changed. With the advent of Philip de Mountford that spring afternoon into the old house in Grosvenor Square, life for the other nephew--for Luke, once the dearly loved--became altogether different.