re you,
sir? Thanks--I will have some tea. Pretty gorgeous day, ain't it?
Rippin' dance of yours last night, Lady Adela."

Meanwhile, Rachel knew that she had nothing to say to him. Out there in
the sunlight she might, perhaps, have maintained that relationship that
had been begun between them the night before, but in here, with Aunt
Adela and Uncle Richard so consciously an audience, with the air so dim
and the walls so grey, Roddy Seddon seemed the most strident of
strangers.

She sat, silently, whilst he talked to Aunt Adela. "I've never had so
toppin' a dance as last night--'pon my soul, no. Young Milhaven, whom I
tumbled on at Brook's at luncheon, said the same. Band first-rate, and
floor spiffin'."

"I'm glad you liked it, Roddy," said Lady Adela, with a dry little
smile. "I must confess to being glad that it's over."

Roddy glanced a little shyly at Rachel. "I suppose you're goin' hard at
it now, Miss Beaminster?"

She looked across the tea-table at him. "There's Lady Grode's and Lady
Massiter's, and Lady Carloes is giving one for her niece----"

"The Massiter thing ought to be a good one. Always do it well," said
Roddy. "'Pon my word, on a day like this makes one hot to think of
dancing."

He was perplexed. He had instantly perceived that he had here a Rachel
Beaminster very different from last night's heroine. She was now beyond
all contemplated intimacy. He had heard others speak of that aloofness
that came like a cloud about her. He now saw it for himself.

After a time he came across to her whilst Lady Adela and her brother
talked as though the world consisted of one Beaminster railed round by
high palings over which a host of foolish people were trying to climb.

He stood beside her smiling in that slightly embarrassed manner of his,
a manner that caused those who did not know him to say that they liked
Roddy Seddon because he was so modest.

"Such a day it seems a shame to be in town."

"Yes--isn't it lovely?"

"The opera's pretty hot in the evenin' just now. Have you been yet?"

"I've been in Munich often. I've never been here."

"My word! Haven't you really? Wish I could say the same. I'm always
bein' dragged----"

"Why do you go if you don't care about it?"

"Can't think--always askin' myself. Why do half the Johnnies go? And yet
in a way I like some sorts o' music."

"_What_ kind of music?"

"Sittin' in the dark, in a room, with someone just strokin' the piano up
and down--just