With a bound she reached the window, there a sudden dizziness attacked her.  She clutched at the curtain with both hands.  What if he had gone already?  What if she were never to see him again?

Desperately she steadied herself.  She must not give way thus.  She looked out and saw Noel, walking along the edge of the balustrade that bounded the terrace.  His arms were outstretched, and he balanced himself with extreme difficulty.  It looked perilous, but she knew him well enough to feel no anxiety, notwithstanding the fact that there was a fall of twelve feet on one side of him.

After a few moments she commanded herself sufficiently to call down to him, “Noel, where is everybody?”

He looked up, lost his balance, and sprang down upon the terrace.  “By Jove!  Aren’t you dressed yet?  What are we coming to?  Trevor is gone to ride round the estate, wouldn’t have me for some reason.  Bertrand is in his room with the door locked, says he is busy—­all bally rot, of course.  And Aunt Phil, thank the gods! is packing her trunk to leave by the five o’clock train.  By the way, Trevor said I was to see you had some breakfast.  What would you like?  I’ll bring it up to you myself in two shakes.”

Chris felt an unexpected lump rise in her throat.  Somehow the tenderness of her husband’s love hurt her more than it comforted just then.  She knew that he had absented himself and deputed Noel to wait upon her because he had divined that she would prefer it.  His intuition frightened her also.  Was he beginning to divine other things as well?  Recalling his intent look of the night before, the wonder struck chill to her heart.  Yes, she was thankful that he had gone; but it would be horribly hard to meet him again after she and Bertrand had said good-bye.  Aunt Philippa’s departure, eagerly though she had anticipated it, would make it harder.  Very soon Noel also would be gone, and they would be alone together.  How would she keep her secret then?  How hide her soul from those grave, keen eyes that probed so deeply?

Ah! but he trusted her; he trusted her!  Back to the old sheet-anchor flew her whirling thoughts.  His faith in her was invincible, unassailable.  It kept her safe.  It sheltered her from every danger.  It was her single safeguard in temptation; without it she would be lost.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, and leaned from the window to give her brother the instructions he awaited.

Turning back into the room, she found a note in her husband’s handwriting lying on her table.  She took it up.

“I do not forbid you to see Bertrand,” it ran, “though I think you would be wiser not to do so.  I have already taken leave of him.  He refuses to be open with me, so there is no more to be said.  It is by his own wish that he is leaving to-day.  As I said to you last night, I shall take no legal steps against him, but that does not alter the fact that he is a criminal, and for that reason your friendship with him must cease.  I am sorry, but it is inevitable.  I think you will see it for yourself by and bye, but till then my prohibition must be enough.  I cannot be disobeyed in this matter.  Bear it in mind, dear, and believe that, even though I may seem hard, I am acting for your welfare, which is more to me than anything else on earth.