a petulant
droop of the under lip. Her face was of the type which instantly
attracts masculine attention. There was the lure of sex in the depths of
the blue eyes, and provocativeness in the drooping lines of the
petulant, slightly parted lips. There was a suggestion of
meretriciousness in the tinted lips and the pretence of colour on the
charming face. The close air of the room was drenched with the heavy
atmosphere of perfumes, mingled with the pungent smell of cigarette
smoke.

Miss Heredith took a seat by the bedside. The two women formed a
striking contrast in types: the strong, rugged, practical country lady,
and the fragile feminine devotee of beauty and personal adornment, who,
in the course of time, was to succeed the other as the mistress of the
moat-house. The difference went far beyond externals; there was a wide
psychological gulf between them--the difference between a woman of
healthy mind and calm, equable temperament, who had probably never
bothered her head about the opposite sex, and a woman who was the
neurotic product of a modern, nerve-ridden city; sexual in type, a prey
to morbid introspection and restless desires.

The younger woman regarded Miss Heredith with a rather peevish glance of
her large eyes. It was plain from the expression of her face that she
disliked Miss Heredith and resented her intrusion, but it would have
needed a shrewd observer to have deduced from Miss Heredith's face that
her feeling towards her nephew's wife was one of dislike. There was
nothing but constrained politeness in her voice as she spoke.

"How is your head now, Violet? Are you feeling any better?"

"No. My head is perfectly rotten." As she spoke, the girl pushed off her
boudoir cap, and smoothed back the thick, fair hair from her forehead,
with an impatient gesture, as though she found the weight intolerable.

"I am sorry you are still suffering. Will you be well enough to go to
the Weynes' to-night?"

"I wouldn't dream of it. I wonder you can suggest it. It would only make
me worse."

"Of course I shall explain to Mrs. Weyne. That is, unless you would like
me to stay and sit with you. I do not like you to be left alone."

"There is not the slightest necessity for that," said Mrs. Heredith
decisively. "Do go. I can ring for Lisette to sit with me if I feel
lonely."

"Perhaps you would like Phil to remain with you?" suggested Miss
Heredith.

"Oh, no! It would be foolish of him to stay away on my accou