which seemed
wafted into the air as she gathered up her skirts on her way into
the room, had a foreign flavour in it. But, after all, it was Adrea
herself who changed the atmosphere so completely. She was so different
from other women in her strange Eastern beauty and the leopard-like
grace of her movements that she could not fail to create an atmosphere
around her. Yes! it was she herself who had worked the change; just as
she had worked so wonderful a change in him, Paul told himself.

At first they had thought that the room was empty; and Adrea, who had
entered a little in advance, turned round to Paul and held out her
hands with a sudden sweeping gesture of invitation. Even in that
moment, as he moved towards her, Paul had time to feel a quick glow
of admiration at the artistic elegance of her pose and colouring. Her
proud, dusky face and brilliant eyes found a perfect background in the
deep orange of her loose gown, and the velvet twined amongst her dark
hair. Her arms, stretched out towards him, were half bare, where the
lace had fallen back, and a world of passionate love and invitation
was glowing in her face as she leaned slightly towards him, as if
impatient of his slow advance. But before his hands had touched hers,
a voice from the further end of the room had broken in upon that
eloquent silence.

"Adrea! you did not see me!"

They stood for a moment as though paralysed; then Adrea turned
slowly round with darkening face. "I did not! I thought that you were
upstairs!"

She glided out of the shadows, a slim, tall figure dressed with
curious simplicity, and with white, bloodless face. "I am going away,"
she said, coming quite close to them, and fixing her full, deep
eyes upon Adrea; "I am going away at once. But, Adrea, there is one
word--just one word--"

"Say it!" Adrea interrupted impatiently.

She glanced at Paul. He made a movement as though to quit the room,
but Adrea prevented him. "You need not go!" she said. "Anything that
is to be said can be said to you as well as to me. I prefer to have no
secrets! You were going to say something to me," she added, turning to
her companion.

"Yes! I have no objection to say it before Mr. de Vaux. I simply want
to ask you whether you consider him a proper visitor in this house?"

"I choose it! I am mistress here!"

For a moment an angry reply seemed to quiver upon the woman's lips,
but it died away.

"You are right! I thank you for reminding me of it,"