ext room. Then one came
through the passage-room where the three waited, and went in, then
another, then another. Last of all came Julian.

Ethelberta sat facing the door, but Christopher, never in the least
expecting her there, did not recognize her till he was quite inside. When
he had really perceived her to be the one who had troubled his soul so
many times and long, the blood in his face--never very much--passed off
and left it, like the shade of a cloud. Between them stood a table
covered with green baize, which, reflecting upwards a band of sunlight
shining across the chamber, flung upon his already white features the
virescent hues of death. The poor musician, whose person, much to his
own inconvenience, constituted a complete breviary of the gentle
emotions, looked as if he were going to fall down in a faint.

Ethelberta flung at Lord Mountclere a look which clipped him like
pincers: he never forgot it as long as he lived.

'This is your pretty jealous scheme--I see it!' she hissed to him, and
without being able to control herself went across to Julian.

But a slight gasp came from behind the door where Picotee had been
sitting. Ethelberta and Lord Mountclere looked that way: and behold,
Picotee had nearly swooned.

Ethelberta's show of passion went as quickly as it had come, for she felt
that a splendid triumph had been put into her hands. 'Now do you see the
truth?' she whispered to Lord Mountclere without a drachm of feeling;
pointing to Christopher and then to Picotee--as like as two snowdrops
now.

'I do, I do,' murmured the viscount hastily.

They both went forward to help Christopher in restoring the fragile
Picotee: he had set himself to that task as suddenly as he possibly could
to cover his own near approach to the same condition. Not much help was
required, the little girl's indisposition being quite momentary, and she
sat up in the chair again.

'Are you better?' said Ethelberta to Christopher.

'Quite well--quite,' he said, smiling faintly. 'I am glad to see you. I
must, I think, go into the next room now.' He bowed and walked out
awkwardly.

'Are you better, too?' she said to Picotee.

'Quite well,' said Picotee.

'You are quite sure you know between whom the love lies now--eh?'
Ethelberta asked in a sarcastic whisper of Lord Mountclere.

'I am--beyond a doubt,' murmured the anxious nobleman; he feared that
look of hers, which was not less dominant than irresistible.