The voice of the cynical philosopher broke on his ear and disturbed his thoughts. "Madame, it is my humble opinion that you could convince us of anything you desired. Happy are those who have so charming a disciple to expound their doctrines, happier still the fortunate few to whom those doctrines are to be expounded by lips so lovely and a heart so wise." Ere the circle had quite recovered from its astonishment at hearing a speech so flattering uttered by their surly Diogenes, they had parted to make way for the beautiful stranger, and the last gleam of her snowy robes had floated through the doorway, as a cloud melts into the darkness of descending night. There was a sort of long-drawn breath, a feeling as of long tension suddenly set free, a turning as if by one accord to one another. Then-- well, then all the tongues leaped into action, and for the remainder of that evening, like Thackeray's folk "At the Springs," they talked, and they talked, _and they talked_. CHAPTER TEN. PREMONITION. When the Princess Zairoff was in the privacy of her own boudoir, she turned to Colonel Estcourt in a sudden appeal: "Why did you make me go, Julian?" she said. "I knew I should only shock them. I can't ever put up with that languid ignorant curiosity." "I think it will do them good to be shocked," he said, with a smile. "Give them something to think of beside their ailments. And I had a special reason," he went on with a deeper note of tenderness in his voice--"I do not wish you to shut yourself away as you have been doing. You will grow morbid and dissatisfied with life. I want you to take a healthy interest in it once again." She had thrown herself on a low cushioned lounge before the bright wood fire. He took a chair beside her. She seemed to lapse into profound thought, and he watched her beautiful grave face with adoring eyes. "I wish," she said suddenly, "one could live a free, simple, uncriticised life. Do you remember the old days among the wild hills? The cool grey dawns... the sharp sweet air... the long gallops over the rough roads by the rice fields... the strange temples... the songs of the snake-charmers? Ah, we were happy then, Julian, happier than we ever realised." "May we not be still happier?" he said earnestly. "Life has a graver and a wider meaning, it is true, but that should only give us a deeper power of appreciation." A strange smile touched her lips; a smile of mystery, and of dreamy, unfathomable regret. "We shall never be happier," she said, "than we were then. I have always felt that... yes, I know what you would ask. Did I love you then? Yes, Julian, with all my heart and soul... and yet--and yet--I could have been nothing more to you than a sister, a friend. There was a purpose in my marriage." She ceased speaking. For a moment her eyes closed, her head sank back wearily on the soft cushions.