“Yours,
TREVOR.”

Her face was white and strained as she read the note through.  She seemed to hear her husband’s quiet voice in every sentence.  Never till that moment had she fully realized the fact that he had the right thus to guide and restrain her actions.  Never till that moment had she found her will in direct opposition to his.  A sudden passion of rebellion swept upon her, possessed her.  It was intolerable, impossible; she could not submit to the mandate.

To give up her friend—­the dear knight of her girlhood’s dreams—­to see him never again, to close her heart to him, to shut out the very memory of him, to take up her life without him—­no, never, never, never!  Her throbbing heart cried out against it.  It was not to be borne.  A fury akin to hatred surged up within her.  There was no man living who could make her do this thing.

Fiercely she tore the paper across and across, and flung the fragments from her.  Never would she consent to this!  She would defy him sooner!

Defy him!  It was as if a voice spoke suddenly in her soul, asking a quiet question.  Could she defy him and still hide her secret?  Would not the steady eyes read her through and through the instant that her will resisted his?  Would he not know in a moment?  Was it not even possible that he had begun already to suspect?

Again she recalled his intent look of the night before, and her heart misgave her.  Had she betrayed herself?  Had he seen behind the veil?  She shivered at the thought, and for a few moments she was overwhelmingly afraid.  How would she ever meet those eyes again?

But when presently Noel presented himself she had recovered her self-command.  She even compelled herself to eat some breakfast, while he balanced himself on the window-sill and made careless conversation.  It was evident that he knew nothing of Bertrand’s impending departure, and she was relieved that this was so.  She could not have borne his curiosity or his comments.

“What are you going to do to-day?” she presently inquired.

“When you’ve had a decent meal, I’m going for a ride,” he answered promptly.  “Can’t waste the whole day hanging about and Fiddle’s spoiling for a gallop.  You won’t come, I suppose?”

She shook her head.  “No.  I couldn’t, anyhow.  I must stay with Aunt Philippa to-day.  I’ve had quite a lot to eat.  Don’t wait.”

He sprang to his feet at once.  “You haven’t done badly, have you, considering you’ve been lazing in bed instead of working up an appetite in the open air?  I say, Chris, there’s nothing the matter, is there?”

“Of course not,” she returned briskly.  “Why?”

“You’re not looking exactly chirpy,” he said, regarding her critically.  “And Trevor was positively bearish this morning.  He hasn’t been bullying you, has he?”

“Of course not,” she said again.  “How absurd you are!”

He looked incredulous.  “Don’t you stick it!” he warned her.  “If he tries it on, you come to me.  I’ll settle him.”