Rose Lyndwood, avoiding his acquaintances and choosing the less frequented paths, wandered down to the water's edge. He had no design nor intention in his mind, no one passion dominated his heart; but he was in the mood to meet anything that might arise. There was nothing reckless in his bearing. He walked quietly, slowly, his head bent and the pink domino falling from his shoulders. He held up his rapier that it might not catch in the laurels. As he neared the water he paused to break from its stem a pale rose that fell across his path--a flower-like faint flame that seemed as if it had been created suddenly out of the darkness. When he looked up he saw Selina Boyle, standing a few feet away from him under a rosy lamp that cast a blushing radiance over her white dress. Beyond her the bushes falling apart revealed a lattice overgrown with jasmine, and a party of ladies and gentlemen laughing over a supper-table. The Earl slipped the rose stem through the brooch in his cravat, and laughed. Miss Boyle moved a little away; it seemed as if she would rejoin her companions without a word to him. Her delicate head was very erect above the folds of her fine scarf. "What chance brought me here?" said the Earl softly. "Good luck or bad?" She hesitated, stopped and looked at him as if she wished to speak but could not. My lord's lids drooped. He had seen Sir Francis through the lattice of the summer-house. His hitherto meaningless humour lacked now no motive to spur it. He stepped quickly to Miss Boyle's side. "I have seen Susannah," he said. She moved out of the lamplight. "Then you know that--we--cannot speak together," she said under her breath and faintly. "Why?" asked my lord on a quick note of recklessness. "Ah, you know!" she faltered. "And we shall be seen." She walked on, but towards the water, not the supper-table. He came behind her, treading lightly. Her long gauzy scarf floated about her like a mist. The silver borders of it gleamed across her bosom and over her powdered curls. "That malice in the paper has frightened you," said my lord. "I think there is no need to notice it." She paused in her slow walk and stood, an elusive shape in white, against the dark laurels. "This is an extraordinary thing for you to say," she breathed. "Ah, you blame me, and I have no excuses to offer!" "Mine was the fault," she spoke so low that he must bend closer to hear. "I should never have written to you." Her skirt had fluttered back on a bough; he stooped and loosened it. "Walk along here with me, Selina." "Let me return. You should not have spoken to me. I am unnerved to-night." He laughed. "I should like to take you on the lake--away from these people. Could we find a boat?" "My lord, I entreat you, let me return. I--I shall not be able to hold my head up!" she answered desperately and weakly. "Do I prevent your return?" he smiled. "I am not detaining you, Selina."