"How I dreaded that anybody should know!" she exclaimed, "and yet how simple it all seems to me now that you should know!" "And now why don't you go and lie down for a bit," he said. She rose, and without looking back at him, walked towards the house. Her gait was lighter, more assured, more self-confident. It was the gait of one who had ceased to run the gauntlet. CHAPTER XIV It wanted an hour and a half to lunch time. Mrs. Delarayne appeared to have left "The Fastness," and Lord Henry was alone in the garden, meditating and maturing his plans. A strange and pleasant titillation of all his nerves, somewhat similar to that which in the morning convinces a man that he has had a refreshing and healing sleep, seemed to hint to him that here he was not the usual neuropathic therapeutist of Ashbury fame, not a mere specialist spectator, but an acting figure, a participator in this family affair. Could it be his old and deep-rooted admiration for Mrs. Delarayne that made him feel this hearty concern about a patient's condition? He yawned lazily and stretched himself in the fierce August sunlight. Cleopatra's empty chair brought back to him her queenly presence, her passionate confession, and the thought of what it must have cost her. He felt a primitive and violent impulse to perform miracles for the girl whose health and happiness, out of blind friendship for her mother, he had undertaken to protect. He even felt prepared to go to greater lengths in rescuing her self-esteem than he would ever have dared to go with other people. For, to become normal again, he knew that her self-esteem must be revived. Suddenly, in the midst of his meditations, the sound of somebody approaching from the direction of the house made him turn his head. It was Mrs. Delarayne, and, some distance behind her, the whole of "The Fastness" and Brineweald Park party. He rose with alacrity and, seizing her by the arm, led her across the lawn to the far end of the garden. "Quick," he said, "before the others join us." She followed, looking up at him with the deepest interest. "Do you want Leonetta to marry Malster?" he demanded. "Oh no, most certainly not!" cried the widow with angry emphasis. "Anything but that. I have taken the most profound dislike to him. That must be avoided at all costs. The child doesn't know her own mind. Besides, he doesn't deserve her, and Cleopatra's feelings have surely been outraged enough. No, most emphatically not. She would only learn to despise him in a couple of months. In fact, I believe Sir Joseph is dismissing him from Bullion's." "I thought you would take that view," he said. "You are not forgetting, I suppose, that they are very much in love with each other." "In love!" she exclaimed. "Why, Leonetta would fall in love with a stuffed owl at present, provided it could dance attendance on her."