“No! no!  A thousand times no!” cries she eagerly.  “It is only that I must always reproach myself?”

“Why always?  Give in, Margaret, and let me change my place from lover to husband.”

“It is often a fatal change.”

“You mistrust me?”

“You!  No, indeed!  You least of all.  I believe in you from my very soul!  Don’t think that, Harry.  But,” impatiently, “why go over it again and again?”

Colonel Neilson turns a solemn face to hers.

“Margaret!” says he.  “Are you bent on dying an old maid?”

Miss Knollys flushes; she turns aside.

“What an odious word!” says she.

She walks deliberately into the drawing-room behind her.  Neilson still stands leaning over the balcony—­a slow and distinctly satisfied smile crosses his features.

CHAPTER II.

HOW TITA COMMITS A GREAT FOLLY, THOUGH LITTLE IS THE SIN THAT LIES
THEREIN.  AND HOW MARGARET TRIES TO MAKE PEACE, AND WHAT COMES OF IT.

Breakfast is nearly over—­an uncomfortable breakfast, with only a host to guide it—­the hostess had put in no appearance.  This would be nothing if the plea of headache had been urged, but headache had been out of it altogether.  In fact, Lady Rylton had gone out riding at eight o’clock with her cousin, Mr. Hescott, and has not yet come back, though the clock points at ten-thirty.

Sir Maurice had made very light of it.  He had asked Mrs. Bethune to pour out the tea, and had said that Tita would be back presently.  But everyone can see that he is upset and angry, and Margaret, noting it all, feels her heart grow cold within her.

As a fact, Rylton is feeling something more than anger.  Something akin to fear.  Where is she—­the girl he had married, meaning to be true to her if nothing else?  He had questioned her maid very casually, very unconcernedly, and she had told him that her mistress had gone out riding this morning about eight o’clock with Mr. Hescott.  His questions had been so clever, so altogether without anxiety, that the maid had believed in him, and saw nothing in his words to dwell upon later.

Yet Rylton’s heart had seemed to cease beating as she answered him.  She had gone riding with Hescott.  With Hescott!  Will she ever come back?

Tita’s face, when she had left him that last night, is before him now.  Tita’s determination not to accept the olive branch he offered her yesterday is before him too.  What if she——­

And, in truth, Tita had been angry.  Her spirit had been roused.  His open declaration that he believed her capable of carrying on a flirtation with her cousin had hurt her more than she cared to confess even to herself.  It was so silly—­so unjust!  She—­she!

And he!  What of him?  Everything that his mother had told her of his affection for Marian grew, all at once, fresh in her mind.  How did he then dare to speak to her of inconstancy?  He—­who had been false to her from the very beginning.  When he had spoken to her to-day, as she passed him on her way to the garden, she had felt as though she could hardly bring herself to answer him—­and always revenge was in her mind.  Revenge—­to show him how little she cared for his censures.