d away, began to talk as if she were in her own drawing-room.
Alma, too, had recovered control of herself, held the teacup in an all
but steady hand, and examined the room at her leisure. After ten
minutes' absence, Redgrave rejoined them, now in ordinary dress; his
face warm from rapid ablution, and his thin hair delicately disposed.
He began talking in a bright, chatty vein. So Mrs. Rolfe had been
playing at a concert; how he regretted not having been there! What had
she played? Then, leaning forward with an air of kindness that verged
on tenderness----

'I am sure it must be very exhausting to the nerves; you have so
undeniably the glow, the fervour, of a true artist; it is inspiring to
watch you as you play, no less than to hear you. You do feel better
now?'

Alma replied with civility, but did not meet his look. She refused
another cup of tea, and glanced so meaningly at her friend that in a
few moments Mrs. Strangeways rose.

'You won't leave me yet to my solitude?' exclaimed Redgrave. With a
sigh he yielded to the inevitable, inquired gently once more whether
Mrs. Rolfe felt quite restored, and again overwhelmed Mrs. Strangeways
with thanks. Still the ladies had to wait a few minutes for their
carriage, which, at Redgrave's direction, had made a long detour in the
adjacent roads; and during this delay, as if the prospect of release
inspirited her, Alma spoke a few words in a more natural tone. Redgrave
had asked what public concerts she usually attended.

'None regularly,' was her reply. 'I should often go on Saturdays to the
Crystal Palace, if it were not so far for me. I want to get there, if
possible, on Saturday week, to hear Sterndale Bennett's new concerto.'

'Ah, I should like to hear that!' said Redgrave. 'We may perhaps see
each other.'

This time she did not refuse to encounter his look, and the smile with
which she answered it was so peculiarly expressive of a self-confident
disdain that he could scarcely take his eyes from her. Cyrus Redgrave
knew as well as most men the signals of challenge on a woman's
features; at a recent meeting he had detected something of the sort in
Alma's behaviour to him, and at this moment her spirit could not be
mistaken. Quite needlessly she had told him where he might find her, if
he chose. This was a great step. To be defied so daringly meant to him
no small encouragement.

'It's fortunate,' said Alma, as the carriage bore her away, 'that we
had this adventure