incidences, concerning which he had been discoursing to
Leonetta on the way home; but he was not devoid of sensitiveness, and
something in the manner of all present, except Mrs. Delarayne, led him
to fear the worst.

He was not at all alarmed by Denis's haggard and angry mask, for that he
had expected. What he would like to have known was why Miss Mallowcoid
and Sir Joseph regarded him so strangely, and why Stephen looked so sad.

Denis scarcely addressed a word to Leonetta, and whenever he was
constrained to vouchsafe a laconic answer to any question from her, he
glanced significantly at Miss Mallowcoid for her approval.

After lunch Lord Henry conveyed to Mrs. Delarayne that he would like to
speak to her alone, and she followed him out on to the terrace.

"I want to see Cleopatra,--do you think I might?" he said.

"I'll go and ask her," replied the widow.

"By-the-bye," he added, "have you been told anything about Leonetta and
myself in the wood this morning?"

"No," she replied, with perfect honesty.

"Well, whatever you may hear," he said, "trust entirely to me."

She smiled approvingly, and went off in search of Cleopatra.

Lord Henry joined the others. He was certainly very much relieved to
hear that Mrs. Delarayne had been told nothing. Did that mean that
Cleopatra also had been told nothing? He noticed, however, that as soon
as he came up to the group consisting of Miss Mallowcoid, Denis, Sir
Joseph, and Guy, their conversation stopped.

"Who's going rabbit-shooting?" he demanded.

"We all are!" cried Mrs. Tribe, coming towards him from another part of
the terrace; "isn't it fun?"

Mrs. Tribe was the only member of the party, besides Leonetta, who was
still perfectly affable to him, but even in her eyes, he thought he saw
the suggestion of strained good cheer.

"May I come?" he asked.

"Of course!" cried Leonetta.

"I shall want you for a minute or two, remember, Denis," Sir Joseph
observed. "Mrs. Delarayne has told you, I think."

"Yes, sir," said Denis.

At this moment Mrs. Delarayne reappeared. She looked a trifle anxious
and motioned to Lord Henry to join her.

"Well?" he enquired.

"I'm afraid she must have gone home," she said. "She can't be found."

"Can't be found?" cried Lord Henry, with a note of deep alarm in his
voice. Could she possibly have been among those who that morning had
returned to help find the bangle, and he had not seen her, though she
had seen him?

"Oh, I sh