ling him to a duty from which he longed to escape.

So she let him go--let him go in silence. . . .

CHAPTER XVI

WHAT LADY ARABELLA KNEW

Lady Arabella might disapprove of her god-daughter from every point of
the compass, but she was nevertheless amazingly fond of her, so that
when Gillian appeared on her spotless Park Lane doorstep one afternoon
with the information that she and Magda had returned from Devonshire,
she hailed the announcement with enthusiasm.

"But where is Magda? Why didn't she come with you?" she demanded
impatiently.

"Her manager rang up to know if he could see her about various things in
connection with this next winter's season, so there's a great council
in progress. But she's coming to see you to-morrow. Won't I do"--Gillian
wrinkled her brows whimsically--"for to-day?"

"Bless the child! Of course you will! Come along and tell me all about
your Devonshire trip. I suppose," she went on, "you heard the news of
Michael Quarrington's marriage? Or didn't you get any newspapers down in
your benighted village?"

"No, we had no London papers," replied Gillian doubtfully. "But--I
don't understand. Mr. Quarrington isn't married, is he? I thought--I
thought----"

"You thought he was in love with Magda. So he was. The announcement
startled everybody, I can tell you! And Davilof promptly decided that a
motoring trip would benefit his health and shot off to Devonshire at
top speed. Of course he wanted to impart the news to Magda. He must have
felt a pretty fool since!" And Lady Arabella gave one of her enjoyable
chuckles.

"Yes. Antoine came down to see us," replied Gillian in puzzled tones.
"But Magda never confided anything special he had said. I suppose he
_must_ have told her----" She broke off as all at once illumination
penetrated the darkness. "That explains it, then! Explains everything!"
she exclaimed.

"What explains what?" demanded Lady Arabella bluntly.

"Why----" And Gillian proceeded to recount the events which had led up
to the abrupt termination of the visit to Stockleigh Farm.

"She was in a very odd kind of mood after Antoine had gone. I even asked
her if he had brought any bad news, but I couldn't get any sensible
answer out of her. And that night she proceeded to dance in the
moonlight with Dan Storran for audience--out of sheer devilment, of
course!"

"Or sheer heartsickness," suggested Lady Arabella, with one of those
quick flashes of tender insight which combine