o much in the eye of the
beholder!" returned Magda with the flippancy that is so often only the
defence behind which a woman takes refuge.

"I don't think so. As a matter of fact I have no objection to painting a
plain face--provided there's a beautiful soul behind it."

"But I suppose a beautiful soul in a beautiful body would satisfy you
better?"

"It might, if such a combination existed."

Magda flushed a little.

"You don't think it does?"

The grey, contemptuous eyes swept her face suddenly.

"My experience has not led me to think so."

There was an almost calculated insolence in the careless answer. It was
as though he had tossed her an epitome of his opinion of her. Magda's
spirit rose in opposition.

"Perhaps your experience has been somewhat limited," she observed.

"Perhaps it has. If so, I have no wish to extend it."

In spite of Michael's taciturnity--or perhaps, more truly, on account of
it--Magda's spirits lightened curiously after that first interview with
him. The mere fact of his presence had stilled the incessant ache at
her heart--the ache to see him again and hear his voice. And the morose
cynicism of his thrusts at her was just so much proof that, although he
had forced himself to remain out of England for a year and a half, yet
he had not thereby achieved either peace of mind or indifference. Magda
was too true a daughter of Eve not to know that a man doesn't expend
powder and shot on a woman to whom he is completely indifferent.

The next day or two were not without their difficulties, as Lady
Arabella speedily realised. A triangular party, when two out of the
three share certain poignant memories, is by no means the easiest thing
to stage-manage. There were inevitable awkward moments that could only
be surmounted by the exercise of considerable tact, and the hours which
Lady Arabella passed sitting to Quarrington for her portrait, while
Magda wandered alone through the woods or sculled a solitary boat up the
river, helped to minimize the strain considerably.

Nevertheless, it was a relief to everyone concerned when Gillian and
Coppertop were added to the party. A strained atmosphere was somewhat
difficult of accomplishment anywhere within the joyous vicinity of the
latter, while Gillian's tranquil and happy nature reacted on the whole
household.

"That's an extraordinary friendship," commented Quarrington one day
as he and his hostess stood at the window watching Gillian and Magd