sensation of having been rebuked--rebuked by some one whose natural
superiority placed him beyond reach of childish temper or childish
violence. The sensation that many a time in old and distant days had
sent her flying to the shelter of Hannah's arms, rose intolerably keen.
With a defiant sense of futility and loneliness, she turned away from
the little group--only to encounter the pallid face and stiff,
distinguished figure of Lord Deerehurst, as he came slowly towards her
across the room.

Extending his hand, he took her fingers and bowed over them.

"Mrs. Milbanke," he said, "I have just been mentally accusing Lady
Frances of surrounding me by so many acquaintances that I could not
find one friend. Now I desire to retract!"

In the sudden relief--the sudden touch of unexpected
flattery--Clodagh's mobile face underwent a change.

"Then you have found a friend?" she said.

At sound of the words, Sir Walter Gore involuntarily turned; and,
seeing the old peer, made a slight movement of surprise and extended
his hand.

"Lord Deerehurst!" he said. "I did not know you were in Venice!"

They shook hands without cordiality; and having murmured some
conventional remark, the older man turned again to Clodagh.

"Yes," he said, "I have found a friend!"

His cold eyes gave point to the words.

She laughed and coloured. Again she was conscious of Barnard's amused,
speculative gaze; but also she was conscious of the quiet, slightly
critical eyes of her new acquaintance. Goaded by the double spur, she
glanced up into Deerehurst's face.

"Well?" she said. "And now?"

"Now I am in my friend's hands."

He made a profound and eloquent bow.

Again she coloured, but again vanity and mortification stirred her
blood. With a winning movement, she took a step forward.

"Your friend would like to listen to philosophy on the balcony," she
said in a recklessly low voice.

CHAPTER IX

To the superficial student of Clodagh's character, this development of
a phase in her mental growth may present itself as something
distasteful--even unworthy; but to the serious student of human nature,
with its manifold and wonderful complexities, it must perforce come
clothed in a different guise.

Placed by circumstances in a singularly isolated position--springing
from a race in whom love of power, love of admiration, love of love
itself are inherent qualities--it is not to be wondered at that, in the
first flush of her realise