’Freda, my dear, I am so glad you are able to speak.  I thought you so—­ill, dull, unlike yourself, and all that sort of thing.’

’Thanks, papa, I was thoroughly overpowered by the heat; but this delightful breeze has refreshed me.  I hope, Colonel Vaughan, you also have got over your weakness.  I wonder you ever returned alive from India, if such a day as this was sufficient to upset you.’

Further sarcasm was cut short by their reaching the house, for which Freda was very thankful, at a later period, feeling that she lowered her dignity by allowing herself to allude, however covertly, to Gladys or Miss Nugent.  But she was scarcely herself when she did so.

Colonel Vaughan was going to help her out of the carriage, but she passed quickly up the steps without touching his arm.

He had felt her lash, and now fully understood that she knew of his meeting with Gladys, and guessed that he had designs upon Miss Nugent or her fortune.  For once in his life he felt somewhat abashed as he met the eye of the pale, haughty girl, whom he really admired twenty times as much as Miss Nugent, or any other young lady of his then devotees.  And he admired her still more, as she kissed her father’s cheek, nodded a haughty ‘good-night’ to himself, and went upstairs to her room in the haste of strong excitement.

As soon as she was gone, Colonel Vaughan told Mr Gwynne that he had promised Sir Hugh Pryse to go and spend a week with him, and that he should leave Glanyravon for that purpose on the morrow.

‘You will come back again, of course?’ said Mr Gwynne.

’Oh yes, certainly! but I have only ten days more leave, and then I must bid you all good-bye again.’

’I am so sorry, and so will be Freda when she hears it.  What could have been the matter with Freda to-night, I never saw her so odd?  But I suppose it was the heat, and all that sort of thing; good-night.  I am tired to death, though it was a charming party, certainly a charming party.’

CHAPTER XXXV.

THE LADY IN HER OWN RIGHT.

When Freda reached her room, Gladys was awaiting her there.

’Why did you not go to bed, Gladys? you know I dislike your sitting up so late.’

’I could not go to bed, ma’am, feeling that I have offended you, without begging your pardon for having done so.’

‘Then all you said was an invention.’

’I said nothing but the truth, ma’am, but perhaps offended you in saying it to you, merely to excuse myself.  I am very sorry.’

There were traces of tears on Gladys’ face and she looked pale and agitated.

’Gladys, you can go to bed, I have nothing to forgive.  If you tell me the truth, I am very sorry for it, and that such words should have been said to you.  Of course you did not believe them?’

‘No, ma’am, I certainly did not.’

Miss Gwynne was fidgeting with her dress, and Gladys went to assist her, uncalled for.  When it was unfastened, Miss Gwynne again said, ’Thank you, that will do; I wish you to go to bed; good-night,’ and Gladys again obeyed in sorrow.