e
rudiments of diplomacy," Darrow smiled at her, abandoning himself to a
perilous sense of well-being.

She gave him back his smile. "I'm afraid I think nothing short of my own
happiness is worth wasting any diplomacy on!"

"That's why I mean to resign from the service of my country," he
rejoined with a laugh of deep content.

The feeling that both resistance and apprehension were vain was working
like wine in his veins. He had done what he could to deflect the course
of events: now he could only stand aside and take his chance of safety.
Underneath this fatalistic feeling was the deep sense of relief that
he had, after all, said and done nothing that could in the least degree
affect the welfare of Sophy Viner. That fact took a millstone off his
neck.

Meanwhile he gave himself up once more to the joy of Anna's presence.
They had not been alone together for two long days, and he had the
lover's sense that he had forgotten, or at least underestimated, the
strength of the spell she cast. Once more her eyes and her smile seemed
to bound his world. He felt that their light would always move with him
as the sunset moves before a ship at sea.

The next day his sense of security was increased by a decisive incident.
It became known to the expectant household that Madame de Chantelle had
yielded to the tremendous impact of Miss Painter's determination and
that Sophy Viner had been "sent for" to the purple satin sitting-room.

At luncheon, Owen's radiant countenance proclaimed the happy sequel, and
Darrow, when the party had moved back to the oak-room for coffee, deemed
it discreet to wander out alone to the terrace with his cigar. The
conclusion of Owen's romance brought his own plans once more to the
front. Anna had promised that she would consider dates and settle
details as soon as Madame de Chantelle and her grandson had been
reconciled, and Darrow was eager to go into the question at once,
since it was necessary that the preparations for his marriage should
go forward as rapidly as possible. Anna, he knew, would not seek any
farther pretext for delay; and he strolled up and down contentedly in
the sunshine, certain that she would come out and reassure him as soon
as the reunited family had claimed its due share of her attention.

But when she finally joined him her first word was for the younger
lovers.

"I want to thank you for what you've done for Owen," she began, with her
happiest smile.

"Who--I?" he lau