second she wavered on the borderland of
offence; then her mood--her sense of the ridiculous and the sunny
atmosphere of the morning--conquered. She responded with a laugh.

"I suppose I'm not like other people," she said.

"--For which you should say grace every hour of your life!" Barnard
turned and looked into her glowing face. "But I'll satisfy your
curiosity. Gore is known in his own set as a man who obstinately--and
against all reason--refuses to believe in--well, for instance, in the
interesting young married woman."

Clodagh's lips parted.

"But what----" she began impetuously; then she stopped.

Barnard continued to look at her.

"Isn't the inference of the smile somewhat obvious?"

Her glance fell.

"Oh!" she said--"oh! I suppose--I suppose I see."

"Precisely."

"But surely----" she began afresh; then again intuition interfered,
though this time to a different end. It was not the moment--it was not
the atmosphere--in which to parade one's sentiments! With the too ready
facility of her nation for adapting itself to environment, she laughed
suddenly and gaily at her own passing prudery, and raised a bright face
to Barnard's.

"And when he meets these interesting young married women?" she asked
amusedly.

"Ah, there he dubs himself 'Sir Galahad'! Some people call him a saint,
for keeping his eyes on the ground; others call him a sinner, for not
picking up what he sees there. In reality, he is neither sinner nor
saint; but just that enviable creation--a man who is self-sufficing."

While he spoke, and for some time after he had ceased to speak, Clodagh
sat silent. She was leaning over the side of the gondola and looking
down into the calm water, her warm face touched by a mischievous
expression, her hazel eyes half closed. At last she spoke, but without
raising her head.

"And you are all waiting for the person who will make him see the need
for some one else?"

She waited for Barnard's answer, but it did not come. Sensitive to the
silence, she raised her head. Then her self-consciousness left her,
superseded by curiosity. As she looked up, she saw her companion lean
forward and wave a cheerful greeting to the occupant of a gondola
approaching them from the direction of the railway station.
Involuntarily she changed her position and her glance followed his.

The passing of the two gondolas occupied no more than a minute. But the
incidents comprised in some minutes remain with us all our lives.