Charlotte was certainly not showing herself particularly affectionate then, whether she had, or had not, in the past days. Truth to say, whatever may have been her personal predilection or the opposite for the gentleman, his return had brought all her fears to the surface. His personal safety was imperilled; and, with that, disgrace loomed in ominous attendance; a disgrace which would be reflected upon Charlotte. Could she have sent Rodolf Pain flying on electric wires to the remotest region of the known or unknown globe, she would have done it then. Leaving them to battle out their dispute alone, George Godolphin bent his steps to Lady Godolphin's Folly, walking over the very Shadow, black as jet, treading in and out amid the dwarf bushes, which, when regarded from a distance, looked so like graves. He gained the Folly, and rang. The servant admitted him to the drawing-room. It was empty as before. "Has Mr. Verrall not come in?" asked George. "He has come in, sir. I thought he was here. I will look for him." George sat on alone. Presently the man returned. "My master has retired for the night, sir." "What! Gone to bed?" cried George. "Yes, sir." "Did you tell him I had been here when he came in?" "I told him you had been here, sir. In fact, I thought you were here still. I did not know you had left." "Did Mr. Verrall tell you now that he could see me?" "He told me to say that he had retired for the night, sir." "Is he in bed?" questioned George. The servant hesitated. "He spoke to me through the door, sir. He did not open it." George caught up his hat, the very movement of his hand showing displeasure. "Tell your master that I shall be here the first thing in the morning. I want to see him." He passed out, a conviction upon his mind--though he could scarcely tell why it should have arisen--that Mr. Verrall had not retired for the night, but that he had gone upstairs merely to avoid him. The thought angered him excessively. When he had gone some little distance beyond the terrace, he turned and looked at the upper windows of the house. There shone a light in Mr. Verrall's chamber. "Not in bed, at any rate," thought George. "He might have seen me if he would. I shall tell him----" A touch upon George's arm. Some one had glided silently up. He turned and saw Charlotte. "You will not betray the secret that you have learnt to-night?" she passionately whispered. "Is it likely?" he asked. "He is only a fool, you know, at the best," was her next complimentary remark. "But fools give more trouble sometimes than wise people." "You may depend upon me," was George's rejoinder. "Where is he?" "Got rid of for the night," said Charlotte, in a terrible tone. "Are you going in to see Verrall?" "No. Verrall declines to see me. I am going home. Good night." "Declines to see you? He is tired, I suppose. Good night, George!"