Only one thing marred my happiness. That was the memory of a cruel look
which rested on Voltaire's face as we went away together. From that
moment I am sure he regarded me as his rival, and from that moment he
sought to measure his strength with mine. I could see in his face that
he had guessed my secret, while I fancied I could see, beneath his
somewhat cynical demeanour, indications of his love for Gertrude
Forrest.

On our way back from church we met Voltaire and Kaffar, who were eagerly
conversing. They took but little notice of us, however, and, for my own
part, I felt relieved when they were out of sight.

"Do you know what is on the programme for to-night?" I said, when they
were out of hearing.

"Yes; Mr. Temple has arranged for a conjuror and a ventriloquist to
come, and thus we shall have something to occupy our attention besides
ordinary chitchat."

"I'm very glad," I replied, "although I should be delighted to spend the
evening as I have spent this morning."

I said this with an earnestness about which there could be no doubt, and
I fancied I saw a blush mount to her cheek. At any rate, I felt that we
were good friends, and my heart beat high with hope.

Arriving at Temple Hall, I saw Tom reading a letter. "Disappointing,
Justin, my boy," he said.

"What's the matter?" I asked.