"Not now," a touch of surprise was in her tone; "indeed I must go." Again he made no reply, and she smiled at him and left him. Marius returned again to Scarlatti, swaying a little to the music, the long lace at his wrists sweeping the ivory keys; and again he was interrupted. The servant opened the door. "The Countess of Lyndwood." His brother's wife stepped into the chamber and stood facing him; for a moment he did not know her; he received the impression of a slight dark lady, of a vivid personality, gorgeously dressed. She wore black velvet, a large hat with black plumes, and a silver scarf; at her breast was a cluster of pink geranium; she appeared utterly out of harmony with the delicate taste of the chamber. "Good evening, Captain Lyndwood," she said. He had not seen her since the Earl had turned her from the library at Lyndwood Holt, nearly a year ago; he opened his lips, but nothing came, and she laughed, pointing his silence. "Are my lady and Miss Chressham out?" she asked, coming forward. "They are upstairs, madam," he answered, remaining standing by the spinet. "Well, I can wait." She moved slowly, trailing her heavy dress and revealing the fragile grace of her figure effectively and obviously; her hat was well tilted off her face, in her powdered hair was a knot of pink ribbon, and on her left cheek a black patch. "Am I much changed?" she asked, and her eyes were slightly insolent. "Yes," said Marius in a troubled way. "I think you have changed, madam." She sank lightly into the gold chair by Susannah's little work-table. "Think! You know!" she cried; "but you are very much the same, Captain Lyndwood." He coloured furiously, and looked sternly at the page of music lying before him on the spinet. "You must excuse me, madam," he said formally, "that I have not yet waited on you. I am intending to visit Lyndwood House to-morrow." The Countess smiled. "I heard of your return, from the _Gazette_; why did you not write to me?" "My lord knew of my home-coming, madam," he answered coldly. "Do you imagine that I am in my lord's confidence? I say I learnt it from the _Gazette_." There was no reply possible to her astonishing directness; her lately acquired manner of ease and presence but emphasised her graceless ignoring of the screen of words used by people of breed. Marius looked at her; she was painted and powdered, beneath her gown showed her violet velvet shoe sparkling with a great diamond buckle; she leant forward a little, and gazed at him with eyes that were desperately unhappy; again she laughed. "What were you playing?" she asked. "La! but I did not know that you were a player." "'Twas Scarlatti, madam," he answered. Their eyes met and she rose. "I will play you something," she said, and pulled off her grey gloves. "I am credited with some skill, Captain Lyndwood."