rms with Dare, he requested the
would-be student of architecture to wait at the castle the next day, and
dismissed him.

A quarter of an hour later, when Dare was taking a walk in the country,
he drew from his pocket eight other letters addressed to Somerset in
initials, which, to judge by their style and stationery, were from men
far superior to those two whose communications alone Somerset had seen.
Dare looked them over for a few seconds as he strolled on, then tore
them into minute fragments, and, burying them under the leaves in the
ditch, went on his way again.

XIII.

Though exhibiting indifference, Somerset had felt a pang of
disappointment when he heard the news of Paula's approaching
dinner-party. It seemed a little unkind of her to pass him over, seeing
how much they were thrown together just now. That dinner meant more
than it sounded. Notwithstanding the roominess of her castle, she was at
present living somewhat incommodiously, owing partly to the stagnation
caused by her recent bereavement, and partly to the necessity for
overhauling the De Stancy lumber piled in those vast and gloomy
chambers before they could be made tolerable to nineteenth-century
fastidiousness.

To give dinners on any large scale before Somerset had at least set
a few of these rooms in order for her, showed, to his thinking, an
overpowering desire for society.

During the week he saw less of her than usual, her time being to
all appearance much taken up with driving out to make calls on her
neighbours and receiving return visits. All this he observed from the
windows of his studio overlooking the castle ward, in which room he
now spent a great deal of his time, bending over drawing-boards and
instructing Dare, who worked as well as could be expected of a youth of
such varied attainments.

Nearer came the Wednesday of the party, and no hint of that event
reached Somerset, but such as had been communicated by the Baptist
minister. At last, on the very afternoon, an invitation was handed into
his studio--not a kind note in Paula's handwriting, but a formal printed
card in the joint names of Mrs. Goodman and Miss Power. It reached him
just four hours before the dinner-time. He was plainly to be used as a
stop-gap at the last moment because somebody could not come.

Having previously arranged to pass a quiet evening in his rooms at the
Lord Quantock Arms, in reading up chronicles of the castle from
the county history, with t