well."

Clodagh's perplexity showed itself in annoyance.

"How absurd you are, Nance! Fancy writing a man two letters asking him
not to see you, and giving no explanation! It would simply bring him
round here at ten to-morrow morning."

She poured herself out a cup of tea and drank it hastily.

"Life is a hateful tangle!" she said.

"No it isn't, darling, if you only had a little patience."

Clodagh made a very impatient gesture.

"You don't understand!"

"I understand one thing--that you care for Walter."

Clodagh looked up, her mutable face lit by a sudden change of
expression--a sudden look of almost passionate seriousness.

"Yes, I do care for Walter," she said suddenly; "I care so much that I
honestly and truly believe it would kill me if anything came between
us. I have had lots of things in my life--pleasure, excitement,
admiration--but I have never had happiness until now. And I won't lose
it!--I can't lose it!"

The words poured forth in vehement sincerity; then, as she saw the
expression on Nance's face, she gave a little laugh and put out her
hand across the table.

"Dearest! I frightened you! Of course everything comes right, if one
has a little patience. Let's begin breakfast properly! My head aches."

With another laugh, she pressed Nance's fingers, gathered up her
scattered correspondence, and poured herself out another cup of tea.

Nance spent a long morning with her future mother-in-law, lunching with
her afterwards at her hotel. Clodagh, left to herself, ordered her
horse for eleven o'clock; and after two hours of recklessly swift
riding in the Row, lunched alone at her club. After lunch she wrote two
telegrams--one addressed to Deerehurst's London house, the other to the
club he most frequented; these she handed in herself at a telegraph
office, and having despatched them, drove straight home.

At four o'clock Nance returned to the flat, to be met by the
announcement that her sister had a bad headache and had gone to her own
room. Full of concern, she flew along the corridor and knocked on
Clodagh's door.

In a very low voice Clodagh gave her leave to enter.

She opened the door swiftly; then paused, alarmed. The blinds were
drawn, and by the subdued light she saw Clodagh lying on a couch near
one of the windows.

"Why, Clo! What's the matter?"

She ran forward and dropped on her knees by the couch.

Clodagh extended two rather cold hands, and took possession of Nance's
wa