d to penetrate the gloom. A sullen sky kept
the stars imprisoned behind deep banks of clouds, and only the trees,
by reason of their solid blackness, were discernible in the darkness of
the night. Slipping on a dressing-gown, he stealthily left his room,
and creeping downstairs, found the open door. Emerging on the lawn, he
looked quickly about.

Beneath a near-by tree he saw a woman in white, and the figure of a man
pleading for something. Suddenly Selwyn saw the woman take some
article from around her neck and hand it to the man. The fellow took
it, and seemed to be turning away, when, with a suppressed sob, she
caught him in her arms, murmuring incoherent endearments through her
tears.

The black scudding clouds left the sky-clear for a moment overhead--and
Selwyn felt a contraction of pain in his heart.

The woman was Elise, and the man--her brother Dick.

CHAPTER X.

GATHERING SHADOWS.

I.

Breakfast at Roselawn was a studiously inconsequential meal. Places
were set as usual by the servants, but the viands and the paraphernalia
necessary for their preparation were placed on a separate table in the
alcove by the great window overlooking the lawn. Having performed this
duty, the servants did nothing more; but one could not help feeling
that they were just outside the door, like a group of prompters, ready
to render instantaneous assistance should the amateurs falter.

Lord Durwent made a kindly and efficient supervisor of the commissariat
table, and--there was no question of it--could boil an egg with any one
in the county. And the guests plying between the source of supply and
the breakfast-table proper created a vagabondish camping-out air of
geniality that did much to dispel the natural stiffness of the morning
intercourse. As the meal had no formal opening, every one arrived at
any time during the breakfast period, and though constant apologies
were offered for the frequent interruptions to Lord Durwent's own meal,
it could be seen that his enjoyment of buffet proprietorship was almost
a professional one.

Lady Durwent's part in the function was to supervise the coffee, and
ask each guest how he or she had slept, expressing regret that the
night had not been cooler, warmer, calmer, or fresher, according to the
polite customs of social dialogue at breakfast.

At nine-fifteen the papers used to arrive from the village, always
causing a flutter of excitement. The sense of solitude at R