I am half ashamed to confess that when Agatha was coming I seldom did anything but stand, watch in hand, somewhere near the entrance gates.  That I did today, and was soon rewarded by seeing the Harden carriage.

Ah, me! will the memory of that day ever die with me?  My darling came and seemed to me more beautiful than ever.  Her sweet, frank eyes looked into mine; her pure, beautiful face had a delicate flush of delight, and I—­God help me!—­forgot everything while by her side.

We were all in the library.  How I thanked God afterward that Clare had not felt well enough to have the engravings sent to her room, as I proposed!  We sat round the large center-table on which the folios lay open, Sir John, who took great delight in such things, explaining to Lady Thesiger.  I was showing Agatha those I liked best, when quite unexpectedly, Coralie entered the room.

The moment I saw her face I knew that she meant mischief.  Surely, woman’s face never had so hard, so wicked a look before.

Sir John rose and bowed.  Lady Thesiger looked, as she always did in the presence of mademoiselle, constrained and annoyed.  Agatha’s look was one of sheer surprise, for Coralie walked up to the table.

“Choosing engravings, Miss Thesiger?” she said, with an easy smile.  “I must ask you to give me your attention for a short time.  Perhaps you will not think the engravings of much importance after that.”

She declined the chair Sir John placed for her with the hauteur of a grand duchess.  As she stood there, calmly surveying us, she looked the most beautiful yet the most determined of women.

“May I ask,” she said, “the exact date fixed for the marriage?”

Sir John answered her: 

“The 26th of December, mademoiselle.”

“May I ask,” she said, “what Sir Edgar has thought of doing for me?  Doubtless Lady Thesiger will have advised him.  This has been my home for many years, and is my only home now.  Has the question been considered?  In the event of Sir Edgar bringing a young wife here, what is to become of me?”

There was a mocking smile on her beautiful face; her dark eyes flashed from one to the other of us; we felt uncomfortable.  She had just hit upon the weak point that disturbed us all, the one cloud in a clear sky.

As no one else seemed inclined to speak, I answered: 

“Everything will be done for your comfort, Coralie; you may be sure of that, for Sir Barnard’s sake.”

“And not for my own?” she said.  “What is your idea of comfort, Sir Edgar?  Do you propose offering me a little cottage and a few pounds per week?  That would not content me.”

She looked so imperial, so beautiful, that I wondered involuntarily what would content her, she who might have anything.

“Whatever you yourself think right, Coralie, you shall have.”

I saw a strong disapproval in Lady Thesiger’s face, and Coralie’s quick eyes, following mine, read the same.