It was impossible to stem the flood of gossip, and though most of it was kindly enough, and wholeheartedly sympathetic to Lady Latimer, Jean’s cheeks burned with indignation that Claire’s dignity should be thus outraged. The remainder of the afternoon was spoilt for her, and Nick’s stormy face when he, together with Lady Anne, rejoined the rest of the party did not help to lighten her heart. “I’m so sorry, Nick,” she whispered compassionately, when presently the opportunity of a few words alone with him occurred. He glared at her. “Are you?” he said shortly. “I’m not. I think I’m glad. This ends it. No woman can be expected to put up with public humiliation of that sort.” “Nick!” There was a sharp note of fear in Jean’s voice. “Nick, what do you mean? What are you going to do?” There was an ugly expression on the handsome boyish-looking face. “You’ll know soon enough,” was all he vouchsafed. And swung away from her. Jean felt troubled. She had never seen Nick before with that set, still look on his face--a kind of bitter concentration which reminded her forcibly of his brother--and she rather dreaded what it might portend. Her thoughts were still preoccupied with the afternoon’s unpleasant episode, and with the possible consequences which might accrue, as she climbed into Burke’s high dog-cart. She had had a fleeting notion of claiming Claire’s vacant seat for the homeward run, but had dismissed it since actually Claire’s absence merely served to provide comfortable room for Blaise in the Willow Ferry car, which had held its full complement of passengers on the outward journey. Moreover, she reflected that any change of plan, now that she had agreed to drive back with Burke, might only lead to trouble. He was not in a mood to brook being thwarted. A big, raking chestnut, on wires to be off, danced between the shafts of the dog-cart, irritably pawing the ground and jerking her handsome, satin-skinned head up and down with a restless jingle of bit and curb-chain. She showed considerable more of the white of a wicked-looking eye than was altogether reassuring as she fought impatiently against the compulsion of the steady hand which gripped the reins and kept her, against her will, at a standstill. The instant she felt Jean’s light foot on the step her excitement rose to fever heat. Surely this _must_ mean that at last a start was imminent and that that firm, masterful pressure on the bit would be released! But Burke had leaned forward to tuck the light dust-rug round Jean’s knees, and regarding this further delay as beyond bearing the chestnut created a diversion by going straight up in the air and pirouetting gaily on her hind legs. “Steady now!”