y conscious of having struck a
wrong note, she felt angry with herself--angry with him.

"Who gave me the name?" he asked again.

"I had better not say. I thought you knew of it."

"Then I am at liberty to guess. It was Lord Deerehurst?"

His tone was curt--even contemptuous.

Clodagh flushed. It seemed as if, by a subtle insinuation, he had
scorned her.

"And if it was Lord Deerehurst?" she asked sharply.

Gore made an exclamation of contempt.

"You dislike Lord Deerehurst?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"You dislike Lord Deerehurst?" She was persistent, remembering keenly
and uncomfortably the favour she had shown the old peer in his presence
the night before.

Gore gave a short, indifferent laugh, and the sound galled her.

"Lord Deerehurst is a friend of mine," she said unwisely.

He bent his head with a stiff movement.

"If I have transgressed," he said, "please forgive me! I have already
trespassed on your time. Good-bye! Perhaps we shall meet later at the
Palazzo Ugochini."

His voice was cold and very reserved.

The blood beat hotly and uncomfortably in Clodagh's veins, but she
raised her head and answered in a voice as indifferent as his own.

"Good-bye! It's quite possible that you may _see_ me at the Palazzo
Ugochini; but I can't promise more."

Gathering up her light skirt, she turned and walked across the terrace
to the door of the hotel.

Gore stood and watched her until the last gleam of her dress was lost
in the lighted hall; then slowly--thoughtfully, almost reluctantly--he
began his descent of the steps.

CHAPTER XI

Clodagh's mood was inexplicable even to herself as she entered the
hotel, ran upstairs to her own room, and began to dress for dinner.

She changed her dress with an almost feverish haste, giving herself no
time for thought; and then, scarcely waiting to take a final look into
the mirror, left the room and hurried down into the hall. There she
encountered Barnard.

"I have just been speaking to your husband," he said, greeting her with
a smile. "He has been lured into attending some secret conclave of
Italian scientists. He asked me to make his excuses to you."

Clodagh's glance fell.

"Oh!" she said with a curious little inflection of the voice.

"Of course he knew that you were going out to-night?"

"Oh yes! Of course!" She still kept her lashes lowered.

Barnard smiled.

"Mrs. Milbanke," he exclaimed in a cheerful voice, "suppose we have a
g