--so simple--so subtle, if one might use so extreme a
word. If London is large in one sense, it is socially as small as any
other capital; and the man who wishes to seek the society of a member
of his own set finds his way rendered very easy.

And in all matters of tact and subtlety Deerehurst was an adept. If, in
Nance's eyes, his comings and goings were things to cavil at, he knew
exactly how to arrange them for Clodagh's consideration, so that the
gift of a bunch of flowers--the offer of seats at a theatre--the loan
of a horse--or the retailing of an amusing bit of gossip seemed the
merest courtesies from one friend to another. For in one fact lay his
advantage--the fact of a really great favour, secretly given and
secretly accepted, in comparison with which all trivial civilities
became as nothing.

Not that he ever pressed this advantage home. He was far too wise to
allude to it by look or word. But the very passivity of his attitude
served to fix the consciousness of his generosity deeper in Clodagh's
mind. Not that the knowledge of it galled her; she was too exultantly
happy in her own life to be hampered by any debt. But the knowledge of
its existence was there--unconsciously bearing upon her ideas and her
actions.

On the morning following her return from Tufinell, a faint thrill of
surprise and uneasiness had touched her when her eyes had fallen upon a
big square envelope, bearing a black coronet, that lay amongst her
letters on the breakfast table. And another remembrance of Venice had
caused her fingers to tremble slightly as she tore the letter open.

But at the first line her face had cleared--her confidence in life and
in herself had flowed back in full tide. There was not a word in the
letter that Gore himself might not have read.

So great had been her relief, that a new wave of kindly feeling for
Deerehurst had awakened in her mind; and when, on the following
morning, he had joined her in her early ride, she had received him with
friendly warmth.

And from that, things had drifted, until Deerehurst's
presence--Deerehurst's discreet, deferential, amusing personality--had
become a factor in the day's routine. The Estcoits had arrived from
America, and, with their advent, she had been compelled to see less of
Nance; the majority of her friends had already left town, so that even
had she desired the old existence, amusements and occupations were less
easy to find than they had been a month ago. Ther