death in the face; had left the
mimic playing at arms, to fight a hand-to-hand battle with that grim
spectre through weary weeks and months. Such an experience could not
fail to leave its mark, however resolutely it might be ignored. She was
silent for some minutes, staring dreamily out of the window, while Dane
in his turn studied her face, and wondered in masculine innocence why
every woman did not wear chinchilla.

"How do you take it when such blows come?" she asked slowly at last.
"Do you rage or sulk? I suppose with ordinary human creatures it comes
down to one of the two. Only the saints are resigned, and I don't fancy
you--"

"No, indeed. Very far from it!" He laughed, then sobered quickly. "I
suppose I,--sulked! I got the credit for taking it uncommonly well, but
that was because I was too proud to fuss. Pity hurt. For my own
selfish sake it was easier to bluff it out, and pretend to be hopeful.
But inside--I went through a pretty fair imitation of hell in those
first few weeks!"

In Cassandra's low croon of sympathy sounded all the warmth of her Irish
heart; her eyes were liquid with sympathy.

"And then? Afterwards... How soon did you--"

"Pull myself together? Oh, I dunno! As soon as I--began to pull round,
I suppose!" He shrugged his shoulders. "Not much credit in that, was
there? I _sulked_, as you put it, so long as everything seemed over,
but when I saw I was going to live on, I was obliged to rouse myself to
see what could be done. That's natural! The more one has lost, the
more important it is to make the most of what remains. I couldn't enjoy
my life in the way I intended, but I was determined to enjoy it all the
same."

"And have you?"

"Rather! Look at me now. Having a rattling time. I've never enjoyed
things more in my life than during the last few weeks."

"Church decorations included!" Cassandra enquired with malice prepense.
She wanted to see if he would look self-conscious at what was meant to
be a veiled reference to his connection with Teresa, but he looked at
her with the frankest of smiles and said: "Yes; didn't you?" and it was
she, not he, who suffered from embarrassment.

At lunch Bernard was unaffectedly pleased to see the unexpected guest,
and throughout its course talked to him persistently on topics which
left Cassandra out in the cold. She was evidently accustomed to be thus
ignored, for her dreamy eyes showed that her thoughts were far away, and