ull in and puff out smoke as he had seen
Sharnall do when _he_ was moody. He wanted some work for his restless
body while his restless mind was turning things over. It was the news
of Lord Blandamer's visit, as on this very afternoon, that fanned
smouldering thoughts into flame. This was the first time, so far as
Westray knew, that Lord Blandamer had come to Bellevue Lodge without at
least a formal excuse of business. With that painful effort which we
use to convince ourselves of things of which we wish to be convinced in
the face of all difficulties; with that blind, stumbling hope against
hope with which we try to reconcile things irreconcilable, if only by so
doing we can conjure away a haunting spectre, or lull to sleep a bitter
suspicion; the architect had hitherto resolved to believe that if Lord
Blandamer came with some frequency to Bellevue Lodge, he was only
prompted to do so by a desire to keep in touch with the restoration, to
follow with intelligence the expenditure of money which he was so
lavishly providing. It had been the easier for Westray to persuade
himself that Lord Blandamer's motives were legitimate, because he felt
that the other must find a natural attraction in the society of a
talented young professional man. An occasional conversation with a
clever architect on things architectural, or on other affairs of common
interest (for Westray was careful to avoid harping unduly on any single
topic) must undoubtedly prove a relief to Lord Blandamer from the
monotony of bachelor life in the country; and in such considerations
Westray found a subsidiary, and sometimes he was inclined to imagine
primary, interest for these visits to Bellevue Lodge.

If various circumstances had conspired of late to impugn the sufficiency
of these motives, Westray had not admitted as much in his own mind; if
he had been disquieted, he had constantly assured himself that
disquietude was unreasonable. But now disillusion had befallen him.
Lord Blandamer had visited Bellevue Lodge as it were in his own right;
he had definitely abandoned the pretence of coming to see Westray; he
had been drinking tea with Miss Joliffe; he had spent an hour in the
kitchen with Miss Joliffe and--Anastasia. It could only mean one thing,
and Westray's resolution was taken.

An object which had seemed at best but mildly desirable, became of
singular value when he believed that another was trying to possess
himself of it; jealousy had quicke