back in her chair and grimly smiled.

Meanwhile Sir Wilfrid Bury's attention was still held by Mademoiselle Le
Breton. In the conversation between her and Lady Henry he had noticed an
extraordinary change of manner on the part of the younger lady. Her
ease, her grace had disappeared. Her tone was humble, her manner
quivering with nervous anxiety. And now, as she stood a moment behind
Lady Henry's chair, one trembling hand steadying the other, Sir Wilfrid
was suddenly aware of yet another impression. Lady Henry had treated her
companion with a contemptuous and haughty ill-humor. Face to face with
her mistress, Mademoiselle Le Breton had borne it with submission,
almost with servility. But now, as she stood silent behind the blind old
lady who had flouted her, her wonderfully expressive face, her delicate
frame, spoke for her with an energy not to be mistaken. Her dark eyes
blazed. She stood for anger; she breathed humiliation.

"A dangerous woman, and an extraordinary situation," so ran his thought,
while aloud he was talking Central Asian politics and the latest Simla
gossip to his two companions.

Meanwhile, Captain Warkworth and Mademoiselle Le Breton returned
together to the larger drawing-room, and before long Dr. Meredith took
his leave. Lady Henry and her old friend were left alone.

"I am sorry to hear that your sight troubles you more than of old," said
Sir Wilfrid, drawing his chair a little nearer to her.

Lady Henry gave an impatient sigh. "Everything troubles me more than of
old. There is one disease from which no one recovers, my dear Wilfrid,
and it has long since fastened upon me."