In a few minutes the whole party, except Cleopatra, was assembled round the luncheon table. Lord Henry and Leonetta had returned, and what with her joy over her recovered bangle, and her pride in Lord Henry's recently revealed affection, few could have looked more guiltless and more free from care than the heroine of the morning's adventure. Miss Mallowcoid ate little. Her faith in the desirability of human life in general had been rudely shaken. She therefore kept her eyes fastened sadly on the immoral couple, and wondered how two such sinful beings could eat and talk so heartily. Lord Henry, however, was not quite as bright as his fellow sinner, for the dramatic absence of Cleopatra from the luncheon table made him feel somewhat apprehensive. From the way in which Mrs. Delarayne assured him that it was only a passing _migraine_ that was keeping her daughter away, he was led to hope that it was truly only one of those curious accidents, or coincidences, concerning which he had been discoursing to Leonetta on the way home; but he was not devoid of sensitiveness, and something in the manner of all present, except Mrs. Delarayne, led him to fear the worst. He was not at all alarmed by Denis's haggard and angry mask, for that he had expected. What he would like to have known was why Miss Mallowcoid and Sir Joseph regarded him so strangely, and why Stephen looked so sad. Denis scarcely addressed a word to Leonetta, and whenever he was constrained to vouchsafe a laconic answer to any question from her, he glanced significantly at Miss Mallowcoid for her approval. After lunch Lord Henry conveyed to Mrs. Delarayne that he would like to speak to her alone, and she followed him out on to the terrace. "I want to see Cleopatra,--do you think I might?" he said. "I'll go and ask her," replied the widow. "By-the-bye," he added, "have you been told anything about Leonetta and myself in the wood this morning?" "No," she replied, with perfect honesty. "Well, whatever you may hear," he said, "trust entirely to me." She smiled approvingly, and went off in search of Cleopatra. Lord Henry joined the others. He was certainly very much relieved to hear that Mrs. Delarayne had been told nothing. Did that mean that Cleopatra also had been told nothing? He noticed, however, that as soon as he came up to the group consisting of Miss Mallowcoid, Denis, Sir Joseph, and Guy, their conversation stopped. "Who's going rabbit-shooting?" he demanded. "We all are!" cried Mrs. Tribe, coming towards him from another part of the terrace; "isn't it fun?" Mrs. Tribe was the only member of the party, besides Leonetta, who was still perfectly affable to him, but even in her eyes, he thought he saw the suggestion of strained good cheer. "May I come?" he asked. "Of course!" cried Leonetta. "I shall want you for a minute or two, remember, Denis," Sir Joseph observed. "Mrs. Delarayne has told you, I think." "Yes, sir," said Denis.