"True!" says she. She gives him one swift brilliant glance, and then
suddenly grows restless. "How _warm_ it is!" she says fretfully. "I
wish----"

What she was going to say, will never now be known. The approach of
a tall, gaunt figure through the hanging oriental curtains at the
end of the conservatory checks her speech. Sir Hastings Curzon is
indeed taller than most men, and is, besides, a man hardly to be
mistaken again when once seen. Perpetua has seen him very frequently
of late.



CHAPTER XI.



"But all was false and hollow; though his tongue
Dropped manna, and could make the worse appear
The better reason, to perplex and dash
Maturest counsels."



"Shall I take you to Lady Baring?" says Hardinge, quickly, rising
and bending as if to offer her his arm.

"No, thank you," coldly.

"I think," anxiously, "you once told me you did not care for