nd, by a clever touch of the tailor's art,
conveyed the suggestion of a period more picturesque than our own. She
studied him with deep attention; and bent her head in gratified
acknowledgment of the profound bow with which he marked the
introduction. A moment later, he offered her his hand, and himself
assisted her to the waiting gondola.

With a pleasant, excited sense of dignity and importance, she passed
down the steps and entered the boat, noting, as she took her seat, its
costly and elaborate fittings and the sombre livery of the two
gondoliers; then, as she leant back against the cushions, her eyes
passed back interestedly to the three men to whom she owed the night's
adventure.

Lord Deerehurst came first, moving with a certain stiff dignity, and
appropriated the seat by her side; Barnard and Serracauld followed,
placing themselves on the two smaller seats that flank the stern; and a
moment later, she saw the gondoliers swing lithely round into their
allotted positions, and felt the gondola shoot out swiftly and silently
into the dark waters.

Following the custom of the place, they headed for the point where the
idle and the pleasure-seeking of Venice gather nightly to listen to the
music, and lazily watch the swaying paper lanterns of the musician's
gondolas.

Clodagh sat silent as they skimmed onward. She was bending slightly
forward, her whole attitude an unconscious typifying of expectancy; her
hands were lightly clasped in her lap, and again the hazel of her eyes
was darkened by their dilated pupils.

As the gondola slackened speed and the music became nearer, more
distinct, Lord Deerehurst, who had been covertly studying her, leant
suddenly close to her.

"You are a great appreciator of the beautiful, Mrs. Milbanke!" he said
in his thin, high-bred voice.

Clodagh started; and, glancing from one to the other of the three men,
laughed shyly.

"Why do you say that?" she asked.

"Because I have presumed to watch your face."

She blushed; and Barnard, feeling rather than seeing her embarrassment,
made haste to reassure her.

"Mrs. Milbanke is an adept in the appreciation of beauty," he said with
a laugh. "She was brought up on the study of it."

Again Clodagh coloured, and again she gave a shy laugh.

"If you say that, Mr. Barnard," she said, "I shall accuse you of being
a fellow-countryman. I am Irish, you know." She turned and looked up at
Deerehurst.

The old peer again bent forward inte