The great suffering that he was going through was having some effect upon his mind, refining him in all ways, forcing him to think and to reason out all problems of life.  The great dreams which used to come to him sometimes when in Kashmire during solitary hours of watching for sport returned.  He would surely do something vast with his life—­when this awful pain should be past.  What, he could not decide—­but something which would take him out of himself.  He did not think he could stay in England just at first after Sabine should have married Henry—­the chances of running across her would be too great, since they both knew the same people.

Henry would read about the divorce and the name “Sabine Delburg” in the paper, too, and would then know everything, even if Sabine had not already informed him.  But he almost thought she must have done so, because he had had no word lately from his old friend.  Thus the time went on for all of them, and none but the priest felt any premonition that Christmas would certainly bring a climax in all of their fates.

Lord Fordyce had hardly ever spent this season away from his mother, who was a very old lady now, and deeply devoted to him; but the imperative desire to be near his adored overcame any other feeling, and he, with the Princess and her son and father, was due to arrive at Heronac on the day before Christmas Eve.

He ran across Michael at the Ritz the night before he left Paris.  They were both dining with parties, and nodded across the room, and then afterwards in the hall had a few words.

“To-morrow I am going down to Heronac, Michael,” Henry said.  “Where do you intend to spend the festive season?  Here, I suppose?”

“Yes, it is as good as anywhere,” Michael returned.  “I felt I could not stand the whole thing at Arranstoun.  I have been away from England so long, I must get used to these old anniversaries again gradually.  Here one is free.”

They looked into each other’s faces and Henry noticed that Michael had not quite got his old exuberant expression of the vivid joy of life—­he was paler and even a little haggard, if so splendid a creature could look that!

“I suppose he has been going the pace over here,” Henry thought, and wondered why Michael’s manner should be a little constrained.  Then they shook hands with their usual cordiality and said good-night.  And Michael prepared to go on to a supper party, with a feeling of wild rebellion in his heart.  The sight of his old friend and the knowledge that he was on his way to join Sabine drove him almost mad again.

“I suppose they will be formally engaged in the New Year.  I wonder how my little girl is bearing it—­if she is half as miserable as I am, God comfort her,” he cried to himself; and then he felt he could not stand Miss Daisy Van der Horn, and getting into his motor he told the chauffeur to drive into the Bois instead of to the supper.