After dinner that day, when the cool of a midsummer evening had fallen on Brineweald Park, and Cleopatra had been despatched to her bed by her new spiritual adviser, Mrs. Delarayne, Sir Joseph, Miss Mallowcoid, and Gerald Tribe sat down to Bridge on the terrace, Lord Henry invited Agatha to show him over the grounds, and Mrs. Tribe and Stephen went to the billiard room. A moment before Lord Henry had descended the steps with his companion, he had seen Vanessa and Guy Tyrrell depart mysteriously in the direction of the woods, and Denis and Leonetta vanish just as mysteriously towards Headlinge. For the purpose he had in view, he would have preferred Vanessa for his companion, more especially as he had noticed that she went reluctantly with Tyrrell, but he had missed securing her by a minute, thanks to Mrs. Delarayne's garrulousness. He stood at the foot of the steps. It mattered not to him whither Vanessa and her companion were bound, and observing the direction Denis and Leonetta were taking, he walked slowly along the path to Headstone, which was exposed for the greater length of its course, and promised to keep him constantly in their view. "This way, Lord Henry," said Agatha, starting in the direction of Headlinge. "No, if you don't mind," he said, "I prefer this path. I like the sweep of the hill to the right. These vast stretches of grass at this hour always make me feel that I am walking on the edge of a carpet, on which the elves and the fairies are having their revels." The girl acquiesced. The two figures to the left, on the road to Headlinge, buried themselves in a wooded grove, and the girl glanced a little apprehensively in their direction, as she caught the last glimpse of them. "Denis and Leonetta are on the road to Headlinge," she said simply. "Oh, are they?" replied Lord Henry. "Can you see them then?" "No," she answered. "They are somewhere behind those trees." * * * * * Two proposals of marriage were made that evening in Brineweald Park. One was flatly declined; the result of the other was doubtful. The love-sick swains were Denis Malster and Guy Tyrrell, and their respective companions we know.