not more determined or more
irretrievably in love than Sara. The danger of such wild moods is as
attractive to the very young as it is terrifying to the more mature.
Perfectly conscious of her beauty, she felt able to defy, sue, and
conquer at the same moment. Orange had never seen her to such brilliant
advantage. The instant he entered the room and met her eyes, which shone
with a most touching kind of timidity and a most flattering joy, he had
to realise the need of strict discipline where constancy is a rule of
existence. Sara's laugh, movements, way of talking, played a good deal
on the heart, but even more upon the senses. Brigit's lovely face gained
intensity only under the influence of sorrow. Then it became human. At
other times it was merely exquisite. Now Sara's countenance had all the
changing qualities of nature itself. She had, too, the instinctive arts
of sympathy which are so much rarer than the actual gift. Far enough was
Sara from the triumph which she was imagining; far enough was Orange
from the least disloyalty; but he was fully alive to the danger of
regarding her as a woman to be fought against. To fight in such cases is
to admit fear of conquest.

"Those opals are beautiful," said he, presently.

"I am glad you approve of--the opals."

"But you put them to a disadvantage."

"O! is that a compliment? The first you have ever paid me."

"Do you care about them?"

"From you, yes. I was reading in Saint-Simon's Memoirs yesterday that
your ancestor--Charles de Hausee--was the first swordsman, the bravest
soldier, the hardest rider, and the best judge of women in France. But
let us be serious. Lady Larch is wearing her brightest smile!"

"Must we be very earnest this evening?"

"I am afraid so. You see, I have secured Pole-Knox. He has never been
permitted to dine here before."

"Why not?"

"Because I once told Lady Augusta that he was a man for the shortest
part of the afternoon--not for evenings, at all. She couldn't forgive
this."

"Does she forgive it now?"

"Yes. She has reached the stage when one may criticise him."

"That means a complete cure, I suppose."

"Far from it--resignation to the worst that can be said of his
character. There is no cure possible then."

"Have you had any conversation with Reckage?" he asked.

Sara coloured and put her fingers to her lips.

"Hush!" said she. "There's a deceptive quiet about him which puzzles me.
But I don't think he is sorry to be ri