enue to-night. Sorry, Mrs. Swordsley, but I
forgot to tell them to leave the gate into the lane unlocked. Well, it's
a jolly night, and I daresay you won't mind the extra turn along the
lake. And, by Jove! if the moon's out, you'll have a glimpse of the
motorboat. She's moored just out beyond our boat-house; and it's a
privilege to look at her, I can tell you!"

*****

The dispersal of his guests carried Stilling out into the hall, where
his pleasantries reverberated under the oak rafters while the Granger
girls were being muffled for the drive and the carriages summoned from
the stables.

By a common impulse Mrs. Stilling and Wrayford had moved together toward
the fire-place, which was hidden by a tall screen from the door into
the hall. Wrayford leaned his elbow against the mantel-piece, and Mrs.
Stilling stood beside him, her clasped hands hanging down before her.

"Have you anything more to talk over with him?" she asked.

"No. We wound it all up before dinner. He doesn't want to talk about it
any more than he can help."

"It's so bad?"

"No; but this time he's got to pull up."

She stood silent, with lowered lids. He listened a moment, catching
Stilling's farewell shout; then he moved a little nearer, and laid his
hand on her arm.

"In an hour?"

She made an imperceptible motion of assent.

"I'll tell you about it then. The key's as usual?"

She signed another "Yes" and walked away with her long drifting step as
her husband came in from the hall.

He went up to the tray and poured himself out a tall glass of brandy and
soda.

"The weather is turning queer--black as pitch. I hope the Swordsleys
won't walk into the lake--involuntary immersion, eh? He'd come out
a Baptist, I suppose. What'd the Bishop do in such a case? There's a
problem for a lawyer, my boy!"

He clapped his hand on Wrayford's thin shoulder and then walked over to
his wife, who was gathering up her embroidery silks and dropping them
into her work-bag. Stilling took her by the arms and swung her playfully
about so that she faced the lamplight.

"What's the matter with you tonight?"

"The matter?" she echoed, colouring a little, and standing very straight
in her desire not to appear to shrink from his touch.

"You never opened your lips. Left me the whole job of entertaining those
blessed people. Didn't she, Austin?"

Wrayford laughed and lit a cigarette.

"There! You see even Austin noticed it. What's the matter, I say? Aren