ed her
words.

"My head still aches," she said. "I think you may go. I should like to
be alone."

From previous knowledge of her moods, the woman made no protestations,
but folded up her work and went quietly towards the door.

As she gained it, Clodagh turned.

"Simonetta!"

"Yes, signora?"

"Tell the servants they are to say nothing to any one of my having gone
out to-night. You understand."

"I understand, signora."

"That is all--good-night!"

"Good-night, signora!"

It would be futile to relate the thoughts that passed through Clodagh's
mind in the hour that followed Simonetta's departure; but when, at
half-past eleven, Nance returned from the theatre, and, hurrying to the
bedroom, opened the door swiftly and anxiously, she was standing by one
of the open windows, her hat and veil still on, her gaze fixed
resolutely on the shadowy trees of the park.

Crossing the threshold softly, Nance tip-toed into the room.

"Clo," she whispered, "'how are you? Better?" Then she paused in
pleased surprise.

"What? You've been out? Then you _are_ better. How glad Walter will be!
He insisted on coming back to know how you were."

At Gore's name, Clodagh started and looked round.

"Walter here?" she said.

"Yes; but, Clo! what's the matter? You've been crying."

Clodagh stepped to her side and laid her hand imperatively on her arm.

"Hush!" she whispered. "Go back at once and tell Walter that I'm--that
I'm asleep. Tell him that Simonetta said I was better and fell asleep.
Tell him anything you can think of that will make him happy and get him
away. He must be got away. I can't see him. Do you understand, Nance?
He must be got away."

For one surprised moment Nance looked at her sister; then conquering
her curiosity, she turned quietly and moved to the door.

"All right, darling!" she said reassuringly; "I'll send him away
happy."

Clodagh put her hand across her eyes.

"Thank God!" she said. "If you had asked me one more question I
couldn't have borne it. Send him away, and then come back."

In silence Nance left the room. Five minutes passed--ten minutes; then
Clodagh's straining ears caught the closing of the outer door, and her
hand dropped to her side in a gesture of excessive relief.

"Thank God!" she said again.

When Nance re-entered, she was still standing in the middle of the
room, her face white and tear-stained, her figure braced.

"Nance," she said, almost before the door had closed u