“You drive me mad,” he said and stamped away from her so hard, that Ussher came up from the cellar. “What’s Edward doing?” he said. “He says he’s going mad,” returned Christine, “but I thought he was washing the dishes.” “There’s no pleasing Edward,” said Ussher. “He was in my room at six o’clock this morning trying to get me to start a rescuing party (and I needn’t tell you, Christine, we none of us had much sleep last night), and now that he is here and finds you safe, he seems to be just as restless as ever.” And Ussher returned to the cellar still grumbling. “You know why I’m restless, Christine,” Hickson said when they were again alone. Christine seemed to wonder. “The artistic temperament is usually given as the explanation, but somehow, in your case, Edward--” He came and stood directly in front of her. “Christine, what did happen last night?” Although not a muscle of Miss Fenimer’s face moved, she knew very well that this was a turning-point. She had the choice between killing the scandal, or giving it such life and strength that nothing but her marriage with Riatt would ever allay it. She knew that a few sensible words would put Hickson straight, and Hickson would be a powerful ally. On the other hand, if he came back plainly weighted with a terrible doubt, no one would ask any further evidence. The question was, how much would Riatt feel the responsibility of such a situation. It was a fighting chance. Themistocles when he burnt his ships must have argued in very much the same way, but probably not so rapidly. “There are some things, Edward,” Christine said in a low shaken voice, “that I cannot discuss even with you.” Hickson turned away with a groan. CHAPTER III Christine had been right when she told Riatt that Nancy Almar would be resentful after a dull evening at the Usshers’. The evening, as far as Nancy was concerned, had been very dull indeed. To be bored, in her creed, was a confession of complete failure; it indicated the most contemptible inefficiency, since she designed the whole fabric of her life with the unique object of keeping herself amused. Nothing bored her more than to have the general attention centered on some one else, as all that evening it had been focussed on the absent ones. Not only did she miss the excitement of her contest with Christine over the possession of Riatt, but she was positively wearied by the Usshers’ anxiety, by her brother’s agony of jealousy and fear, and by Wickham’s continual effort to strike an original thought from the dramatic quality of the situation.