John also was far from content. He had been longing to see Amaryllis, and yet the sight of her and her fond and insinuating words and caresses had caused him exquisite suffering. His emotions were so varied and complex. His prayer had been answered, but apart from his natural loathing for all subterfuge, every new tenderness towards himself which Amaryllis displayed aroused some indefinable jealousy. She had been so glad to see him and he had been conscious himself that he had been even unusually stolid and self-contained towards her. He knew that she grew disappointed and that probably the exalted sentiment which her letter had indicated that she was feeling had been chilled before she could put it into words. All this distressed him, and yet he could not break through the reserve of his nature. And now to crown unfortunate things, there was Denzil brought by fate and no one's manoeuvring into Amaryllis' company! Of all things he had hoped that they need not meet before he and his cousin should go to the Front. And it was all brought about by his own action in insisting that they had better dine at a restaurant, as the kitchenmaid, who always remained at Brook Street, had gone to see a wounded brother. Amaryllis had sighed a little as she had consented, with the faint protest that they could have eaten something cold. But on their drive to the Carlton she had become fondly affectionate again, nestling close to him, and then she had pulled out the carnation from her belt and held it for him to smell. "I picked it in the greenhouse this morning, the last of them; I have had them all around me while there were any, because they remind me of you, dearest--and of everything divine." John felt that he should always now hate that clove stuff for the hair and could no longer bear to use it. He was perfectly aware that Denzil on his hostess' other hand was looking everything that a woman could desire, and that his easy casualness of manner would be likely to charm. He saw that Amaryllis, too, observed him with unconscious interest, and a feeling akin to despair filled his heart. Life for him had always been difficult, and he was accustomed to blows, but this one was particularly hard to bear, because he really loved Amaryllis and desired happiness with her which he knew could never really be attained. Only Harietta of the whole party was quite content. She intended to annex Stepan when they should be drinking coffee in the hall. She looked upon Denzil's conquest now as almost an accomplished fact, and so felt that she might let him talk to Amaryllis, since the Russian was her real object. His ugly rugged face and odd Calmuck eyes always attracted her. "Why aren't you staying in the hotel, darling Brute?'" she whispered to him as they left the restaurant. "If you had been--"