red that cave business. They're such a wily lot, these
Frenchies."

"What cave business?" There was a hint of sharpness in Mordaunt's voice;
his brows were drawn.

Noel looked surprised. "Why, the time they got hung up by the tide all
night. Mean to say you never heard of it? Oh, my eye!" he broke off
blankly. "Then I've let the cat out of the bag!"

"Don't distress yourself. It is of no importance." Mordaunt's tone was
suddenly very deliberate. He turned away and began to put on his coat.
"Are you ready for luncheon? I'm going down now."

Noel surveyed him doubtfully. "You won't let on I told you, will you?" he
said uneasily. "Chris may have asked me to keep it dark."

"I don't suppose she did." Very quietly Mordaunt made reply. "She has
more probably forgotten all about it. But I won't give you away in any
case. You are ready? Then suppose we go!"

They descended together to find Aunt Philippa and Chris awaiting them in
the hall. Chris scarcely looked at her husband. She was very pale.

He followed her to her end of the table to pour her out a glass of wine.

"Please don't!" she said nervously. "I don't like it. I can't drink it."

"I think you can," he answered. "Try!"

He went to his own place, and proceeded to engage Aunt Philippa in
conversation. But Aunt Philippa was looking even more severe than usual,
and responded so indifferently to his efforts that he presently suffered
them to flag. There fell a dead silence. Then Noel struck in with furious
zest, and Mordaunt turned to him with relief. But Chris scarcely opened
her lips.

At the end of the meal he addressed her with quiet authority. "Chris, you
must rest this afternoon. Your aunt will excuse you."

"Certainly," said Aunt Philippa stiffly.

Chris rose from the table in unbroken silence. She came slowly down the
long room. Mordaunt got up to open the door, and followed her out.

"Don't worry about me, please!" Chris besought him as he closed the door
behind them. "I shall be all right to-morrow."

He ignored the protest, and accompanied her upstairs. She glanced at him
uneasily as they went. "I can't help being--unhappy just for to-day," she
murmured. "You--you couldn't expect me--not to care?"

He did not speak till they reached her room. Then: "You saw Bertrand," he
said, in a tone that was hardly a question.

"Yes." She began to tremble a little. "I am sorry," she said. "But--I had
to." She stood before him, not meeting his eyes, waitin