ady."

As he went away she turned again to the poems; but now she could not
read them. Her eyes rested upon them, but her mind took in nothing of
their meaning. Presently--very soon--she laid the book down and sat
listening. The footman had shut the drawing-room door. She got up and
opened it. She wanted to hear the sound of the latch-key being put into
the front door by Leo Ulford. It seemed to her as if that sound would
be like the _leit motif_ of her determination to govern, to take her own
way, to strike a blow against the selfish egoism of men. After opening
the door she sat down close to it and waited, listening.

Some minutes passed. Then she heard--not the key put into the hall
door; it had not occurred to her that she was much too far away to hear
that--but the bang of the door being shut.

Quickly she closed the drawing-room door, went back to the distant sofa,
sat down upon it and began to turn over the poems once more. She even
read one quite carefully. As she finished it the door was opened.

She looked up gaily to greet Leo and saw her husband coming into the
room.

She was greatly startled. It had never occurred to her that Fritz was
quite as likely to arrive before Leo Ulford as Leo Ulford to arrive
before Fritz. Why had she never thought of so obvious a possibility? She
could not imagine. The difference between the actuality and her intense
and angry conception of what it would be, benumbed her mind for an
instant. She was completely confused. She sat still with the book of
poems on her lap, and gazed at Lord Holme as he came towards her, taking
long steps and straddling his legs as if he imagined he had a horse
under him. The gay expression had abruptly died away from her face and
she looked almost stupid.

"Hulloa!" said Lord Holme, as he saw her.

She said nothing.

"Thought you were goin' to the Blaxtons to-night," he added.

She made a strong effort and smiled.

"I meant to, but I felt tired after the opera."

"Why don't you toddle off to bed then?"

"I feel tired, I don't feel sleepy."

Lord Holme stared at her, put his hand into his trousers pocket and
pulled out his cigarette-case. Lady Holme knew that he had been in a
good humour when he came home, and that the sight of her sitting up in
the drawing-room had displeased him. She had seen a change come into his
face. He had been looking gay. He began to look glum and turned his eyes
away from her.

"What have you been up to?" sh