"Wonderful!--and on the water, too. I saw two or three people I knew--just caught their faces for a second." "Did you?" said Kitty. And thoughts ran fast through her head. "Did she see Geoffrey?--and does she mean me to understand that she did? How she detests me! If she did see him, of course she supposes that I know all about it, and that he's here for me. Why don't I ask her, straight out, whether she saw him, and make her understand that I don't care twopence?--that she's welcome to him--as far as I'm concerned?" But some hidden feeling tied her tongue. Mary continued to talk about the serenata, and Kitty was presently conscious that her every word and gesture in reply was closely watched. "Yes, yes, she saw him. Perhaps she'll tell William--or write home to mother?" And in her excitement she began to chatter fast and loudly, mostly to Sir Richard--repeating some of the Venice tales she had told in the gondola--with much inconsequence and extravagance. The old man listened, his hands on his stick, his eyes on the ground, the expression on his strong mouth hostile or sarcastic. It was a relief to everybody when Ashe's step was heard stumbling up the dark stairs, and the door opened on his friendly and courteous presence. "Why, Polly!--and Cousin Richard! I wondered where you had hidden yourselves." Mary's bright, involuntary smile transformed her. Ashe sat down beside her, and they were soon deep in all sorts of gossip--relations, acquaintance, politics, and what not. All Mary's stiffness disappeared. She became the elegant, agreeable woman, of whom dinner-parties were glad. Ashe plunged into the pleasant malice of her talk, which ranged through the good and evil fortunes--mostly the latter--of half his acquaintance; discussed the debts, the love-affairs, and the follies of his political colleagues or Parliamentary foes; how the Foreign Secretary had been getting on at Balmoral--how so-and-so had been ruined at the Derby and restored to sanity and solvency by the Oaks--how Lady Parham, at Hatfield, had been made to know her place by the French Ambassador--and the like; passing thereby a charming half-hour. Meanwhile Kitty, Margaret French, and Sir Richard kept up intermittent remarks, pausing at every other phrase to gather the crumbs that fell from the table of the other two. Kitty was very weary, and a dead weight had fallen on her spirits. If Sir Richard had thought her bad form ten minutes before, his unspoken mind now declared her stupid. Meanwhile Kitty was saying to herself, as she watched her husband and Mary: "I used to amuse William just as well--last year!" When the door closed on them, Kitty fell back on her cushions with an "ouf!" of relief. William came back in a few minutes from showing the visitors the back way to their hotel, and stood beside his wife with an anxious face. "They were too much for you, darling. They stayed too long."