Stray remarks of Olga Lermontof's came back to her--those little pointed arrows wherewith the Russian had skilfully found out the joints in her armour--"Miss de Gervais is not quite what she seems." And again, "I'm perfectly sure Adrienne de Gervais' past is a closed book to you." Proof positive that Olga had known all along what Diana had only just this moment perceived to be the truth. Diana's small hands clenched themselves until the nails dug into the soft palms, as she remembered how those same hands had been held out in friendship to this very adventuress--to the woman who had wrecked her happiness, and for whom Max was ready at any time to set her and her wishes upon one side! What a blind, trusting fool she had been! Well, that was all ended now; she knew where she stood. Never again would Max or Adrienne be able to deceive her. The scales had at last fallen from her eyes. "I'm sorry, Diana"--Max's cool, quiet tones broke in on the torment of her thoughts. "I'm sorry, but I shall probably have to be away several days." "Have you forgotten we're giving a big reception here next Wednesday?" "Wednesday, is it? And to-day is Saturday. I shall find rooms somewhere to-morrow, and take Adrienne and Mrs. Adams down to them the next day. . . No, I can't possibly be back for Wednesday." "But you must!"--impetuously. "It's impossible. I shall stay with Adrienne and Mrs. Adams until I'm quite sure that the place is safe for them--that that fellow hasn't traced them and isn't lurking about in the neighbourhood. You mustn't expect me back before Saturday at the earliest. You and Jerry can manage the reception. I hate those big crowds, as you know." For a moment Diana sat in stony silence. So he intended to leave her to entertain half London--that half of London that mattered and would talk about it--while he spent a pleasant week philandering down in the country with Adrienne de Gervais, under the aegis of Mrs. Adams' chaperonage! Very slowly Diana rose to her feet. Her small face was white and set, her little pointed chin thrust out, and her grey eyes were almost black with the intense anger that gripped her. "Do you mean this?" she asked collectedly. "Why, of course. Don't you see that I must, Diana? I can't let Adrienne run a risk like that." "But you can subject your wife to an insult like that without thinking twice about it!"--contemptuously. "It hasn't occurred to you, I suppose, what people will say when they find that I have been left entirely alone to entertain our friends, while my husband passes a pleasant week in the country with Miss de Gervais, and her--chaperon? It's an insult to our guests as well as to me. But I quite understand. I, and my friends, simply _don't count_ when Adrienne de Gervais wants you." "I can't help it," he answered stubbornly, her scorn moving him less than the waves that break in a shower of foam at the foot of a cliff. "You knew you would have to trust me."