There was a dawning suspicion in her eyes, and she regarded his averted face keenly; she noticed that he hesitated and seemed embarrassed.

“No one you know,” he replied, feeling that it was impossible for him to speak Ida’s name.

“How do you know?” she asked, with a curious smile.  “Who was it?”

“I met Miss Heron of Herondale,” he said, trying to speak casually, and wondering what she would say, hoping fervently that she would ask no more questions.

The blood rushed to her face, her eyes flashed and her lips tightened; but she did not speak, and moved away to the window, standing there looking out, but seeing nothing.  He had gone to her the moment he had returned:  what did it mean?  But she dared not ask; for she knew instinctively how slight was the chain by which she held him.  With an effort she restrained the rage, the fierce jealousy, which threatened to burst forth in violent reproaches and accusation; and after a minute or two she turned to him, outwardly calm and smiling.

“Have you made any plans, Stafford?” she asked.  “My father was speaking of your return; he thought of writing to you.  Dearest, there must be no reserve between us now—­now that you have come back.  See, I speak quite frankly.  My father thinks—­thinks that our marriage should take place at once.  He has withdrawn his objection, and—­and you will not thwart him, Stafford?  It is hard for me to have to say this; but—­but you will understand.”

“I understand,” he said in a low voice.  “I am grateful to your father.  Our marriage shall take place as soon as you please.  It is for you to fix the date, Maude.”

She nestled against him and touched his coat with her lips.

“I am ashamed of myself,” she murmured; “but, ah, well! love casteth out shame.”

A servant knocked at the door.

“The horse is round, miss,” he announced.

“I was going for a ride,” she said; “but I will send the horse away—­unless you will ride with me.  You will, Stafford?”

“Certainly,” he said, glad of the interruption to this tete-a-tete which had been to him a positive torture.

“I will not be five minutes,” she said, brightly.  “You’d like to go over the house?  They shall bring you something to drink in the smoking-room, or here, if you like:  you are lord and master.”

She went up to her room, and, when she had rung for her maid, paced up and down feverishly.  He had gone to that girl before he had come to her!  She was racked with hate and jealousy, which was all the harder to bear because she knew she must hide them within her bosom, that no word or look of hers must let him see that she knew of her rival.  Some time, after they were marred, she would tell him:  but not till she was safe.  She got into her habit quickly and went down to him.  He was standing where she had left him, and as she entered the room she saw before he had time to turn to her with a smile, how haggard and harassed he looked.