By his side was an almost finished glass of whiskey. The bottle stood on the tray and another bottle lay, broken, on the floor. Atkinson began clearing up this _débris_. "Augustus!" I called, but he did not awake. "Augustus, it is time for dinner!" "If you please, ma'am," said the valet, coughing respectfully, "if I might say so, you had better let Mr. Gurrage sleep, ma'am. I'll see after him. He is--very angry when he is like this and woke suddenly, ma'am." I looked at the whiskey bottles and the flushed face. A sickening disgust overwhelmed me. And there would be no Lady Tilchester to save me to-night! "Open the window," I said to Atkinson, "and persuade Mr. Gurrage to go to bed when he wakes." And I left the room. All my guests were assembled when I got into the first drawing-room. Indeed, it was twenty minutes to nine. Mrs. Dodd had the air of an aggrieved turkey-gobbler. I felt she would fly at some one. "We thought we should not get any dinner, Mrs. Gussie," she said, huffily. "Folks are generally down in their own houses!" I took no notice of this remark. "I am so sorry to be late, Lady Wakely," I said, addressing her and the other women, "but my husband is not well, and, I fear, will not be able to come in to dinner. He must have caught a chill out shooting." "Have you sent for the doctor? Because, if not, I know all about chills with Wullie, who never changes his socks," interrupted Mrs. Dodd. "Let me go to him, Mrs. Gussie." "No, thank you. Do not trouble," I said. "His servant and I have done all that is necessary, and he wishes to sleep. Let us go in to dinner." I told them each whom they were to take in, and put my own hand on Antony's arm. It seemed as if he held it closely to his side, but he said nothing, and we walked into the dining-room. I do not know at all what we talked about. Certainly for three courses everything was a blank to me. But I heard myself laughing, and Mr. Dodd, who sat on my other hand, seemed mightily amused at my conversation. "Why, the open air and a little walking has done you all the good in the world, Mrs. Gussie!" I was conscious, at last, that he was saying. "Your cheeks are quite rosy and your eyes as bright as stars." "Yes, it was a delightful day," I said. "Talk about chills, Mr. McCormack"--Mrs. Dodd's voice carried across the table-"I know Gussie Gurrage, and I don't believe he ever had a chill in his life!" Antony now began to talk to me quietly. He said very little. His voice was particularly cool and collected. He never once looked at me. I was grateful for that. I felt as if I could not bear to see sympathy in his eyes. He also talked to Lady Wakely, on his other hand, and chaffed beyond to Miss Springle. And so the dinner passed, and the ladies rose to leave the dining-room, Mr. McCormack holding the door for us.