e. A man like
Mr. Angelo Tombs is a personage of importance."

"Yes; but, James----"

She paused, disconcerted. Milbanke had left the table.

For quite a minute she sat silent, her cheeks burning with a sudden
sense of mortification and neglect. To a reasoning and experienced
mind, the incident would have carried no weight; at most it would have
offered grounds for a passing amusement. But with Clodagh the case was
different. Circumstances had never demanded the cultivation of her
reason, and experience was an asset she was not possessed of. To her
sensitive, youthful susceptibilities, the incident could only wear one
complexion. Her husband had obviously and wittingly humiliated her in
presence of his friend.

She sat with tightened lips, staring unseeingly at the table.

Then suddenly and softly some one crossed the room behind her, and
paused beside her chair. Turning with a little start, she saw the pale,
clean-cut features and searching dark eyes of Valentine Serracauld.

"Mrs. Milbanke," he said at once in his easy, ingratiating voice. "If
you are not doing anything else this evening, may I place my uncle's
gondola at your disposal? Both he and I would be considerably honoured
if you and your husband----"

Clodagh looked up into his face with a quick glance of pleasure and
relief.

"Oh, thank you!" she said. "Thank you so very much! I should love to
come, only my husband is--is busy to-night."

She paused; and in the pause Barnard leaned close to her again, with
his most friendly and reassuring manner.

"After all, Mrs. Milbanke," he said, "do you think that need preclude
you from the enjoyment? James is perfectly happy; Lord Deerehurst's
gondola is quite the most comfortable in Venice; and I'm sure _I'm_
staid enough to play propriety! Suppose we make a party of four?"

Serracauld laughed delightedly.

"How splendid!" he said. "Mrs. Milbanke, may I find my uncle and bring
him to be introduced?"

He bent forward quickly, leaning across Milbanke's empty chair.

For one second Clodagh sat irresolute; then she glanced swiftly from
one interested, admiring face to the other, and again the blood rushed
into her face in a wave of self-conscious pleasure.

"Yes," she said softly--"yes. Bring your uncle to be introduced."

CHAPTER IV

Serracauld smiled his acknowledgment of the granted permission, and
departed in search of his uncle; while Barnard looked at Clodagh with
amused interest.

"I