Rachel herself was only the chance instrument of the revelation. She
had not _meant_, so she persisted, to do more than vindicate her own
integrity.

Nevertheless, her own passionate problem was not yet solved. Her aunt
would not, so Rachel believed, give way without a struggle. Had she not
made a gallant effort at recovery even as she left the room, and would
she not make a still greater effort while Adrian was there; assert her
rivalry if only in revenge?

She must meet that, Rachel decided, by presenting a contrast. She would
be meek and humble in her aunt's presence. Adrian might recognise the
admired airs and gestures in those of the old woman, but he should at
least have no opportunity to compare them....

And it was with this thought and intention in her mind that Rachel
received him, when he arrived with a lover's promptness a little before
four o'clock.

"Are you so dreadfully nervous?" he asked her, when they were alone
together in the drawing-room. "You're like you were the first day we
met in town--different from your usual self."

"Oh! What a memory you have for my looks and behaviour," she replied
pettishly. "Of course, I'm nervous."

He tried to argue with her, questioning her as to Miss Deane's probable
reception of him, but she refused to answer. "You'll see for yourself
in a few minutes," she said; but the minutes passed and still Miss
Deane did not come.