encountering Redgrave, who,
if they crossed by chance, might fancy she invited another meeting. She
dreaded the observation of women, especially of Miss Steinfeld. The
only retreat was her bedroom, and here she secluded herself till
dinner-time. At this meal she must needs face the company or incur
remark. She tried to return her friend's smile with the ordinary
unconcern. After dinner there was no avoiding Miss Steinfeld, whose air
of extreme discretion showed that she had an inkling of events, and
awaited confidences.

'Mr. Redgrave has gone--he called to say goodbye.'

'_So_?'

Irritated by self-consciousness, revolting against a misinterpretation
which would injure her vanity, though it was not likely to aim at her
honour, Alma had recourse to fiction.

'I daresay you guess?--Yes, and I refused.'

Miss Steinfeld was puzzled. It did not astonish her that a girl should
reject ten thousand pounds per annum, for that she was too high-minded;
but she had thought it beyond doubt that Alma's heart was engaged.
Here, it had seemed to her, was the explanation of a mystery attaching
to this original young Englishwoman; unhoped, the brilliant lover, the
secretly beloved, had sought her in her retirement. And after all, it
was a mistake.

'I don't care for him a bit,' Alma went on. 'It had to be got over and
done with, that was all.'

She felt ashamed of herself. In childhood she had told falsehoods
freely, but with the necessity for that kind of thing the habit had
fallen away. Solace, however, was at hand, for the German girl looked
at her with a new interest, a new sympathy, which Alma readily
construed as wonder and admiration, if not gentle envy. To have refused
an offer of marriage from a handsome man of great wealth might be
counted for glory. And Alma's momentary shame yielded to a
gratification which put her outwardly at ease.

The restless night brought torment of the mind and harassed spirits.
Redgrave's proposal echoed in the vacant chambers of her life, sounding
no longer an affront, but an allurement. Why, indeed, had she repelled
it so unthinkingly? It did not necessarily mean scandal. He had not
invited her to open defiance of the world. 'You can absolutely trust
me; I am discretion itself. All resources are at my command.' Why had
she rejected with scorn and horror what was, perhaps, her great
opportunity, the one hope of her struggling and sinking ambition? She
had lost faith in herself; in her pow